


Residual Scarring

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-25
Updated: 2004-01-25
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 35,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh continues to deal with the aftermath of the shooting.





	1. Residual Scarring

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  
**Disclaimer:** I’m not getting any money from this. I don’t own them; Aaron Sorkin and all those other rich people do, but am excited they accepted my invitation to come over to play.   
**Summary:** Josh continues to deal with the aftermath of the shooting.  
 **Feedback:** please, let me know what you think!  
**Spoiler:** Pretty much everything through the end of the second season.  


  
**The West Wing- Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff**

Josh Lyman sat at his cluttered desk; his left hand propping up his head while his right fiddled idly with a pen.  His weary eyes wandered over the page of text before him.

"Joshua!"

Josh sighed but didn’t respond to his assistant’s call.  Donna Moss appeared in the doorway of his office.  She paused to take in her boss’s disheveled appearance.

"Josh" her tone softened, "when was the last time you slept?"

"1983. I think"

"Josh, you look terrible.  You need to get some sleep."

"I have a meeting with Sam and Toby."

"At 1:00."

"Which is..."

"In two minutes."  Donna finished for him.

Josh sighed and dropping his pen, gathered files together.  He started around his desk, but paused as a now too familiar tightness started in his chest.  He coughed involuntarily.

"Josh?"  Donna regarded her boss.  Something was wrong.

"I’m going to be late."  Josh ignored her concern.

"Josh."

"I’m fine."  Josh forced himself to walk quickly out of the office, heading through the communications bullpen toward his meeting.

Donna followed him with her eyes, taking in the forced stride and the tense shoulders of her boss.  Something was wrong.  She absently answered the ringing phone on Josh’s desk.  "Josh Lyman’s office."  She turned her full attention to the call when Josh disappeared from view.

 

As soon as Josh was out of his assistant’s sight he slowed his pace.  Coming to a stop in the corridor he leaned against the wall to catch his breath.  This was not good.  The tightness in his chest had only been made worse by his charade and it hurt to breath.  His head throbbed in time with his pounding heart and his vision threatened to blur.  He closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to draw a deep breath.  His effort was rewarded with painful coughs.

Giving up he opened his eyes, straightened, and strode slowly down the hall to the room where Toby and Sam were waiting for him.

"You’re late."  Toby growled without looking up when Josh entered.

"Sorry."  Josh gasped.

His collogues’ heads snapped up at his breathless response.

Sam took in his best friend’s disheveled appearance, the sheen of sweat covering the pale face, the heaving chest.  "Are you okay?"

"I’m..." Coughing cut off Josh’s response.  He couldn’t breathe.  He gasped for breath, but couldn’t stop coughing.  The tightness in his chest increased along with the pain.  His vision clouded.

Sam moved swiftly to his friend’s side as Josh doubled over.  Toby joined them and together the two men maneuvered Josh into a chair.  He remained doubled over, one hand on his chest, the other propped on a knee, supporting his head.  Sam’s blue eyes, reflecting his deep concern, never left Josh.  He heard Toby step out in the hall and call to an aide.  A few soft words were spoken and Toby stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him.

Toby knelt in front of the Deputy Chief of Staff with a glass of water.  "Here.  Try to drink some of this."  Toby held the glass for Josh, as the younger man tried to straighten in the chair.  He took a small sip and attempted to draw a shaking breath.

"I can’t... breathe."  Josh wheezed.  His chest hurt.  The room was spinning dizzily around him and he felt light headed.  His hands and feet were starting to tingle.  He couldn’t breathe.

"Try to relax.  Catch your breath."  Sam knew his advice sounded ridiculous, it was clear that Josh _couldn’t_ catch his breath.  That was the problem!  He felt helpless to do anything.  He reached for Josh’s hand and was shocked at how cold it was.

The door to the room opened and both Sam and Toby briefly felt relief as First Lady Dr. Abby Bartlet entered the room.  She went directly to the young man sitting slumped in the chair, struggling for each breath.

"Sam, help me get him up right."  Together they pushed Josh against the back of the chair so that he was almost sitting straight in the chair and Sam held him there.  Josh’s labored breathing was audible.  His eyes were glazed over and filled with pain.  Abby placed a gentle hand against Josh’s forehead.  "I know you’re scared, try to relax.  We’re going to get you some help."

The door opened again and Donna rushed in followed by two paramedics.  "Oh my God, Josh!"

Abby turned to the paramedics, "Get him on oxygen, now!  He’s in respiratory distress."

Sam and Toby were forced to move away from their friend as the paramedics took over, taking vital signs, placing an oxygen mask over Josh’s mouth and nose, and moving him onto the stretcher.

 

**GW Hospital**

Sam Seaborn opened the hospital room door and slipped in quietly.  His breath caught in his throat as the scene before him was painfully reminiscent of the past.  Josh lay still in the large bed, face pale against the starched sheets.  An oxygen mask was over his mouth and nose; wires ran from his body to machines that beeped with the steady rhythm of his heart.  Donna sat close to the bed, head bowed, and hands on Josh’s arm.

Sam steadied himself and moved across the room to Donna’s side.  He briefly placed a hand on her shoulder, than turned his attention to his best friend.  "How is he?"  Sam’s voice was soft.

Donna sighed.  "Bronchitis moving into pneumonia, exhaustion, and possibly asthma."

"Wow."

"They have him on oxygen and intravenous antibiotics.  He’s receiving nebulizer treatments every few hours."

"Wow."  Sam said again.

"Yeah."

"You should go get some rest.  I’ll stay with him for a while."  Sam pulled Donna to her feet.

Donna regarded Sam for a moment.  She knew that he was as dedicated to Josh as she was and would stay by his side all night.  "Promise me you’ll eat and sleep."

Sam gave the blond assistant a small smile.  "You know me too well.  Yeah.  I promise."

Donna hugged Sam.  "You’re a good friend, Sam.  He’s going to be okay."

"Yeah.  Go; get some rest.  I’ll see you later."  Sam broke the embrace and gently pushed Donna toward the door.  He lowered his tired body into the chair Donna had vacated.  He regarded the sleeping figure briefly before pulling a manila folder from his briefcase on the floor beside him.

 

**2 a.m.**

The soft steady beep of the monitor sped up.  Josh moaned and moved restlessly in the hospital bed.  Sam Seaborn awoke and listened to the noises of the room.    As Sam’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room he could clearly see his friend was in the middle of a dream.  Josh became more restless, his breath coming in short gasps.

"Josh."  Sam spoke quietly and gently shook the man’s shoulder.  "Wake up.  You’re having a nightmare."

Josh became increasingly agitated.  His increased heart rate announced by the beeping monitor, his labored breathing painfully audible.

"Wake up Josh!  It’s Sam.  You’re having a nightmare.  You’re okay."  Sam tried to keep his voice even.

Josh’s eyes snapped open but were unfocused.  He gasped for breath.

"Josh."  Sam spoke his name again, placing a gentle hand on the shaking shoulder.  The brown eyes focused on Sam, but the panicked look didn’t leave them.  Sam realized his best friend was once again in the grips of an asthma attack.  He reached over and pressed the call button to summon help. "Help will be here.  Try to relax, Josh.  Concentrate on your breathing."

A young nurse slipped quietly into the room.  Sam looked up.  "He’s having another attack.  We need a doctor."

The nurse slipped out again, returning momentarily with the doctor on call.  "Okay, Mr. Lyman, just relax.  I’m going to give you some medicine that will help you breathe."  The doctor placed a mask over Josh’s mouth and nose.  Josh breathed in the vaporized medicine.

After several minutes the wheezes subsided to barely audible.  The doctor checked that the medicine was gone before switching off the nebulizer.  The nurse busied herself with removing the nebulizer canister and readjusting the oxygen mask.  The doctor checked the I.V. bag and ordered another one, making notations in Josh’s chart before turning to Josh. "You’ll be due for another treatment in about 3 hours."

"When can I go home?"  Josh asked quietly.

"Your doctor will discuss that with you later today.  For now, rest."  With that the doctor and nurse exited the room, leaving Sam alone with Josh.

Josh laid still, his eyes closed.  Sam thought he’d dropped off to sleep until Josh heaved a sigh.  "This sucks."

Sam allowed himself a small grin.  "Yeah" he agreed.  "Josh?"

"Hmm?"

"Where were you?"

"What?"  Josh opened his eyes and nervously regarded the Deputy Communications Director.

"Your nightmare.  Where were you?"

Josh sunk back against the pillow.  He closed his eyes and tentatively drew a deep breath.  He gave a small cough as his chest still felt a little tight.  The medicine made him feel jittery and awake even though he knew he was exhausted.  He thought about Sam’s question and the vivid images from his dream.  He knew that Sam wasn’t going to let this go.  He experimented with another deep breath, this one coming easier, the lingering tightness starting to fade away.

"The fire."  He said softly.  Josh looked at Sam with shameful eyes.  "I couldn’t breath.  I was 7 again and in the fire.  I was scared and I was running away."

 

**Josh Lyman’s Apartment- Georgetown**

Donna put the carton of milk in the refrigerator and folded the paper grocery sack before putting it in the recycling bin.  "Are you sure you’re not hungry?"  She called.

"Positive."  Josh responded from where he was stretched out on the couch.  "You don’t have to be here, you know."

Donna came into the living room and sat on the edge of the couch next to Josh.  He scooted against the back to give her more room.  She could hear the faint wheezing in every breath he took.  He looked pale and drawn.

"I know.  You’ve been home from the hospital what... two hours?  And you’ve already worn yourself out.  Face it Josh; you feel lousy and you’re notorious for pushing yourself too hard."

"I’m fine."  Josh’s attempt to convince her was thwarted by an extremely painful fit of coughing.  By the time it subsided Josh was curled on his side, clutching his chest, gasping for breath.  The wheezing increased.

"Yeah.  I’m convinced."  Donna reached for the inhaler that lay near by on the coffee table.  "Come on, sit up."

Josh wearily pushed himself up against the pillows so he was half sitting.  Donna shook the inhaler, removed the cap, and handed it to him.

He took it from her and after inhaling the prescribed dose, handed the inhaler back to Donna.  Josh sagged back against the pillows and closed his eyes.

"The country won’t fall down around your ears if you take a few days off."

Josh opened one eye to smirk at his assistant.  "Are you sure?"

"Besides," she ignored him, "you are under strict doctor’s orders to rest."  Donna pulled a blanket up over Josh, her hand lingering on his chest.  She felt the rise and fall of his chest, accompanied by the audible wheezing.  She frowned at him.  "Josh..."

Josh reached up and took her hand.  "I’ll be okay."

Donna gave him a worried smile.  "Take a nap.  I’ve brought some things from the office to work on.  I’ll be here."  Josh responded with a yawn and a nod.  Donna patted his chest then stood.  She settled into the chair next to the couch.  The files she intended to work on lay in her lap ignored as she intently watched her best friend/boss settle into sleep.  Donna watched him for some time before daring to turn her attention to her work.


	2. Residual Scarring 2

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**West Wing -Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff**

Donna Moss sighed as she surveyed the disaster area her desk had become.  Josh had been out a week; it would take a month just to get caught up again.  Donna shook her head.  Three days in the hospital, another four at home.  She knew Josh was going crazy not being allowed to work, but she also knew how rotten he really felt.

"You take out stock in the paper industry?"

Donna chuckled and looked up at Sam, who was leaning against the doorway of her cubicle.  "Hopefully we’ll be able to get caught up before the end of this term!  I don’t know what is worse, dealing with Josh when he’s sick, or dealing with the consequences of when Josh is sick."  Donna swept a hand toward the stacks of files and messages on her desk.

Sam laughed, and then grew serious.  "How is he?  I wanted to come by yesterday, but was stuck in meetings until late."  Sam had been to see Josh every day, including spending several nights so that Donna would go home and sleep.

"He’s still feeling pretty lousy.  Between the coughing and the nightmares he’s not sleeping very much.  It’s driving him crazy to be at home, but it’s obvious he doesn’t have the energy to come in."

"Did he sleep through the night?"

Donna’s shoulders slumped and she shook her head.  "He woke up several times from nightmares.  I can tell that he’s terrified, but he won’t talk about them.  He had an asthma attack as well.  He’s yet to make it through 24 hours without at least one attack."

"You look exhausted, Donna."  Sam looked at her with compassion.  She was the most dedicated assistant Sam knew.  _Strike that,_ thought Sam, _Donna is more than just Josh’s assistant._   "I’ll stay with him tonight.  You go home and rest.  He’ll be back here next week and things will be back to normal.  Then you’ll wonder why you didn’t go home early when you had the chance."

"I have to pick up his prescription from the pharmacy."

"I can do it.  Besides, I need to check with him on a thing we’ve been working on.  I think it will do him good.  We’ll have a few beers, talk a little shop, and watch a movie, or something."

Donna acquiesced.  "Alright.  I guess I’ll try to make a dent in this mess and then actually leave at a decent hour."

Sam chuckled, "Take it while you can."  He flashed Donna a smile then turned and headed across the bullpen back to his own office.

"This isn’t the way I’d like to get it."  Donna said out loud to herself as she began sorting through the files and messages.  It was going to be a long day.

**Josh Lyman’s Apartment- Georgetown.**

Josh Lyman settled back on his couch, flipping idly through the cable channels.  He came back to CNN and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. He glanced at his watch.  Donna wouldn’t be back for another few hours.  He knew his assistant was wearing herself out tending to him, and he felt somewhat guilty, but he was also extremely grateful for her attentiveness.

He’d been anxious to get home from the hospital, even an hour in the hospital seemed too long to him.  But now being at home didn’t seem a whole lot better.  He was bored.  The doctor had given strict orders for him to rest and Leo had informed him in no uncertain terms that he had better follow those orders and not show his face at work until Monday.  Donna had been gracious enough to bring him a very light load of work to do at home.  Sam had stopped by daily, missing only the previous day.  There had been phone calls from Leo, C.J., and Toby, as well as a few unavoidable conference calls.

Josh found the phone calls the hardest.  He was exhausted.  The medicine made him jittery, and he still had a persistent cough.  Sometimes the coughing fits lasted for several minutes.  While they were good in one sense, ridding his lungs of the "gunk" that was built up in them, these fits were painfully exhausting.  They robbed Josh of his breath and his energy.  The previous day Donna had to post-pone a conference call with a particularly obnoxious senator when coughing in the middle of the call incapacitated him.

Josh closed his eyes and grimaced at the memory.  He was so tired.  He forced his mind to do the calculations.  The medicine he’d taken earlier should be wearing off enough for him to get some sleep before taking another dose and being subject to its side- effects.  He relaxed his body and cleared his mind.  Fortunately sleep came quickly.

_< <Bang! Bang! Bang!  Gunshots ripped through the night.  People were screaming, running, diving for cover.  Josh sagged against the wall before sliding to the ground, pain exploding in his chest.  "God!  I’ve been shot!" his mind registered the shock.  "Somebody... help me!" he tried to cry out, but could only cough, as a band seemed to tighten around his chest.  He gasped for air.  He was going to die.  He was a lone and he was going to die.  Panic gripped him.  Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice.  It sounded far away.  The sirens were loud, drowning out everything. "Josh! Josh!">>_

"Josh! Wake up!  You’re having a nightmare!"  Sam Seaborn tried desperately to wake his friend.  Josh moaned and moved restlessly on the coach.  His breath was labored, the wheezes audible.  Josh was clutching at his chest, right hand over the scar.  He cried out and curled onto his side.  His sweat soaked brown hair stuck to his face and neck.

Sam grimaced as Josh continued to cough.  He again shook Josh gently.  "Josh, it’s Sam.  Come on buddy, wake up.  You’re having a nightmare.  You’re safe in your apartment."  Sam watched as Josh slowly stilled, his mind moving from the dream to wakefulness.

Josh finally laid still, his chest heaving, and breath whistling.  He opened his eyes and focused on the concerned face of his best friend.  He sagged back and closed his eyes again.  "Sam."  He wheezed. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you."  Sam pointed to the bag of take out on the coffee table beside him.  "I brought dinner and your prescription."  Sam tossed the pharmacy bag to Josh, who caught it against his chest.

"Thanks.  Donna?"  Josh kept his sentences short in an effort to conserve oxygen and energy.

"Yeah.  I made sure she left at a decent hour."

"Good.  Thanks."

"You’re welcome.  You sound horrible, Josh."

"Gee, thanks."  Josh wheezed.  He broke into another coughing fit.  Josh quickly grabbed a tissue to cover his mouth as he felt things loosening up in his lungs.  He gagged on the mucus that he raised.

Sam moved from the coffee table to sit beside his friend.  He helped Josh sit up and gently rubbed his back until the coughing subsided.  Josh dropped the wadded up tissues into the trashcan he’d set beside the couch and sagged back against the cushions.  He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and drew slow, measured breaths.

Sam watched Josh cautiously.  What he saw scared him.  The man before him was merely a shadow of the vibrant, energetic man that he’d known for years.  Josh was pale and thin.  The nervous energy was replaced by medicine-induced jitteriness.  The sparkle was gone from the brown eyes, replaced by pain and exhaustion. 

"Can you get me a glass of water?"  Josh asked quietly.

Sam sat in shock for a moment before lurching to his feet and moving toward the kitchen.  A Josh Lyman who asked for help with simple things and did not try to put up a front was something that Sam was unfamiliar with.  It only served to heighten his concern.  When Sam returned from the kitchen with the water Josh was laying on the couch covered with a blanket, propped up by pillows.  He had opened the pharmacy bag and taken a pill from the brown bottle.  Sam handed him the water and watched while Josh downed the new medicine, along with a couple other pills.

"Hungry?"  Sam asked as he began to unpack the take out bag.

 Josh shook his head.  "You go ahead and eat.  I’ll have something later."

Sam sighed.  "Josh, you’ve got to eat."

Josh opened his eyes, leveling his gaze on Sam.  "I’m not hungry.  Don’t try to cajole or badger me, Sam.  I’m getting enough of that from Donna and my mother."

"How is your mother?"  The significance of the topic change was not lost on either man.

Josh scrubbed a hand over his face.  "She’s calling every other day.  It took awhile, but I finally convinced her not to fly up."

"She’s worried about you.  It’s been a rough year."

Josh remained silent.  Sam picked up a spring roll from a take out carton.  "So, I’ve got the language finished for the bill. Do you want to go over it?"

"Sure."  Josh pushed himself up and reached out for Sam’s notepad.  Sam drew the notepad from his briefcase and handed it over.  Soon Josh was focused on the written words with Sam watching his face for his reaction.

After an hour of work, which included two arguments and at least three coughing fits, Josh threw his notepad and pen onto the coffee table amid the half empty take out cartons.  "I can’t do this anymore."

Sam looked up in surprise.  "Okay.  We got a lot done, anyway.  We can come back to this on Monday."

"No.  I mean this."  Josh waved his hand in the air.  "I hate being sick.  I hate being weak.  I hate not being able to concentrate.  I hate not being able to breathe."  Josh sagged back against the cushions and coughed a few times.  When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible, his despair evident.  "I’m tired of the hovering.  Of the pitying looks and being treated like I’m going to break."

Sam sat in silence, his heart breaking for his friend.  After a moment he spoke.  "I wish I could take all this away from you, Josh.  I wish there was something more I could do.  We care about you.  We want to help you, but there is only so much we can do.  This is the way it is, but things will get better."

Josh closed his eyes and nodded.

After looking at his watch Sam began cleaning up the coffee table.  "You should go to bed.  You’ve got a weekend off.  Enjoy it.  Come into work Monday, allow your friends to care for you.  You’ll learn how to manage this Josh.  It won’t control your life."

Josh pushed himself off the couch and staggered down the hallway to his bedroom.  As Sam busied himself with clearing away the take out cartons and half eaten food he thought back over what he’d said to Josh.  He wasn’t entirely sure who he was trying to convince; Josh or himself.


	3. Residual Scarring 3

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**The West Wing- Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff**

It was after 8:00 am Monday morning when Josh Lyman shuffled into his office, the familiar trademark Lyman swagger absent.  As he settled himself at his desk Donna brought in his daily schedule.

"You have Senior Staff at 8:30; Senator Collins at 10:00.  You’re scheduled for lunch with Leo at noon.  The conference calls we had to postpone last week are scheduled for 1:30 and 2:30.  You have an appointment with the respiratory therapist at 4:00."

Josh’s head snapped up.  "Respiratory therapist?"

"Yeah.  You have to learn to manage your asthma, Josh.  You can’t let it control your life."

"You’ve been talking with Sam, haven’t you?"

A vaguely guilty look crossed Donna’s features.  "Why do you say that?"

"Never mind."  Josh waved off his comment.  "Do you have the daily briefing memo?"

"Here."  Donna handed him the paper in question.  "Anything else?"

Josh shook his head in response, attention already focused on the memo.

Donna placed the folders she was holding on Josh’s desk then returned to her own desk.

Josh finished reading the memo and looked at his watch.  He had a few minutes to collect his thoughts before heading to senior staff.

"Mi Amour."

Josh looked up to see C.J. Cregg in the doorway leaning against the frame.  "C.J."

"Welcome back.  How are you?"

"I’m fine."  Josh began pulling papers together to take with him to the meeting.

C.J. regarded him skeptically.  "If this is what fine looks like, I’d hate to see you when you’re sick."

Josh shot C.J. a look that said ‘Go away and never speak to me again.’

"Come on, Wheezy.  Walk with me.  We’re gonna be late."

"We’ve got, like 10 minutes."  Josh protested.

"As usual Joshua, your watch sucks."

Josh grabbed his papers and followed the tall blond Press Secretary out the door.  He quickly lagged behind, unable to maintain her quick pace.

C.J. was alarmed to find Josh several steps behind her, unable to keep up.  She slowed and fell in step beside him.  She was further alarmed to hear his breath whistling. "Josh?"

"I’m fine."  He wheezed.

 

"Do you have your inhaler?"

 

"Let me tell you the whole mother hen image really doesn’t suit you."

 

"Josh."

 

They came to a stop outside the Oval Office.  C.J. looked at Josh expectantly while he tucked the papers he was carrying under his arm and patted down his pockets.  He shook his head and shrugged.  "I must have left it in my backpack.  I don’t need it.  I’ll be fine."

"Hey Josh!  C.J., good morning!"  Sam and Toby joined the others.

The door to the Oval Office opened.  "He’s ready for you."  Charlie Young, Aid to the President, stood to the side allowing the four Senior Staffers to enter.

C.J. stopped, the others entering ahead of her. "Charlie, would you call Donna and ask her to bring over Josh’s inhaler?  He said it’s in his backpack."  

Charlie nodded and went to his desk to make the call.

"Good morning children.  What offerings have you brought me on this fine spring morning?"  President Jed Bartlett greeted them.

The group responded with "Good morning, Mr. President." and "Good morning, Sir."

"Josh, welcome back.  Feeling better?

"Much.  Thank you Sir."  Josh replied.

As the meeting proceeded Josh made an honest effort to stay focused, but found it increasingly difficult as the tightness in his chest increased.  He was vaguely aware that Sam’s attention was on him and the others kept glancing at him.  He quickly regretted not having his inhaler with him, and wondered if he could graciously excuse himself to get it.  Along with the panic that he was having another asthma attack, Josh felt anger and frustration at his helplessness rising in him. Here he stood in the Oval Office, in front of the Leader of the Free World, about to make a fool of himself, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Josh coughed and the President stopped talking.  All eyes focused on him.  "I’m sorry, Sir."  Josh wheezed and coughed again.  Coughing racked his body.  He grabbed the back of a chair with one hand, dropping his papers, and covered his mouth with the other.  He wildly wished for tissues or a paper towel.  He felt a steadying hand on his arm and knew without looking it was Sam.  Josh continued to cough and gag.  His stomach twisting as he knew what would be coming next and was powerless to do anything about it.

Someone pressed some tissues into his hand and Josh gratefully raised them to his mouth in time to catch the residue he was coughing up.  Sam maneuvered him into a chair just as his legs gave out.

The door opened and Charlie stepped into the room, quickly surveying the scene.  The President stood in front of his desk beside Leo McGarry.  Toby Zeigler sat rigid on a couch next to C.J. Cregg.  Sam Seaborn knelt on the floor by a chair.  All eyes were on the occupant of the chair, who was doubled over coughing.

"Excuse me, Sir.  Donna brought this over for Josh."  Charlie held out Josh’s rescue inhaler.  When Josh didn’t make a move, Sam reached out and took it from Charlie.

Josh had become lost in a world of pain.  The pounding roar in his ears drowned out the voices of those in the room with him.  A new feeling of dread seized him as he recognized the beginning of a flashback.  "NO!"  His mind screamed.  It had been months since he’d had a flashback, the dreams he could pretty much handle, but not the flashbacks.  His body jerked as he relived the shooting.  It was Sam’s gentle, reassuring voice that brought Josh back to the present.

Sam held the inhaler for Josh while he inhaled the medicine.  Josh buried his face in his hands while he waited for his breathing to ease.

"Charlie," President Bartlet moved across the room.  "Is Donna still here?"

Charlie stepped to the outer office and motioned to Donna Moss, who hurried gracefully into the room.  "Mr. President."

"Donna, help Sam get Josh back to his office."  Bartlet placed a gentle hand on Donna’s arm.  "Make sure he rests.  I need him to make it through this day.  He needs to beat this."

"Thank you, Mr. President."  Donna moved to Josh and Sam.  Together they got Josh to his feet.  Josh never looked up.  He exited the room and walked slowly down the hall, Donna and Sam on either side of him.

Josh remained silent as the three arrived at his office.  While Sam settled Josh on the couch, Donna retrieved a blanket to cover him.  "Do you need anything else?"  Sam asked.

Donna shook her head as she sat on the couch next to Josh.  He brought his legs up, curling himself around her.  Her eyes, full of concern, never left his face.  His eyes were closed, but that didn’t stop tears from slipping down his face.

"I’m gonna get back to the meeting." Sam began backing out of the room.

"Thank you, Sam."

"Yeah.  I’ll check with you later."  Sam exited, quietly closing the door behind him.

"Josh."  Donna’s voice was pleading.  She placed a hand on his back and began to gently trace circles with the flat of her hand.

A cough and then a choking sob shook Josh as he fought to maintain his composure.  He brought his hands to his face for a moment, and then dropped them.  One hand stayed by his head, the other reached for Donna’s hand.  Donna sat in silent agony for her boss, rubbing his back and holding his hand.

"Josh, talk to me."  Donna finally spoke.  "What happened?"

Josh swallowed and opened his mouth, but no words came out.  He closed his mouth and swallowed again.  When he spoke his voice was soft and shaky.  "I couldn’t breathe.  I didn’t have my inhaler, or any tissues.  And then..."  Josh’s voice trailed off and he opened his eyes.  He searched Donna’s face for a moment then looked away, but not before she saw the look of pain, humiliation, and terror reflected in the brown orbs.

"It’s been months."  Josh’s voice was barely a whisper.  "The flashbacks; I thought I was past that.  The dreams are one thing, but the flashbacks."  Josh stopped talking and closed his eyes.  "How am I going to make it through this?"

Donna moved her hand from Josh’s back.  She smoothed back his hair and then rested her hand on the side of his face.  "You will make it through this, and you won’t have to do it alone.  Me, Sam, everyone; we’re here to help you.  Anything you need."  Donna paused and looked at her watch.  "You’ve got about 45 minutes before you meet with Senator Collins.  Take a nap."

Josh nodded and then squeezed her hand.  "Stay for a few minutes, please."

Donna sighed.  "Yeah."  She ran her hand over Josh’s hair a couple more times and then resumed rubbing his back.  Donna felt some of the tension go out of Josh under her touch.  He sighed and settled a little deeper into the couch.  Soon the cadence of his breathing changed and she could tell that he was dozing.  She placed Josh’s hand under the blanket and carefully stood.  She stayed by the couch watching him for a minute more before leaving the room.

Josh slowly became aware of his surroundings.  He could hear the soft rustle of someone moving quietly around the room.  He was lying on his back on the couch, in his office, in the White House, just a few feet from the Oval Office, where he’d coughed up a lung in front of the Leader of the Free World.

Josh groaned as the humiliating memory of the morning’s events came flooding back to him.  He felt the pressure of someone sitting down on the couch next to him and felt the gentle weight of a hand on his chest.  He opened his eyes and met the concerned gaze of his assistant, Donnatella Moss.

"Hey there."  She said quietly with a smile.  "Did you sleep?"

"A little, I guess."  Josh answered, scrubbing his hands over his face.  "Did you bring me coffee?"

"No."  Donna looked at her boss with a puzzled expression.

"Good.  Then I guess my little performance this morning didn’t get me fired."

Donna sighed and shook her head, then smiled again.  "No.  So you still have to take the meeting with Collins.  You have 15 minutes before you have to be in her office."

Josh threw off the blanket and sat up.  Donna stood and pulled him to his feet.  "I’m just gonna go and..."  Josh pointed down the hall.

Donna nodded and resumed collecting the things Josh would need for his meeting on The Hill.  By the time Josh returned from the bathroom, looking slightly more put together, Donna had his back pack ready.  She helped him shrug into his suit coat and handed him the packed bag.  He shouldered it as she gave him instructions.  "All the files you need are in your pack.  Your note cards are in the front pouch.  You have a decent supply of tissues in there with your inhaler.  Here, you need to eat something so you can take your medicine."

Josh took the granola bar and water bottle from his assistant.  "Donna.  Thank you."

"Get going.  You don’t want to be late for this meeting.  Don’t forget you have lunch with Leo at 12."  Donna pushed Josh out the door.  She stood in the doorway to his office, watching her boss walk down the hall.  She shook her head.  The man she was watching barely resembled the Josh Lyman she knew.  Donna sighed as she returned to her desk and the piles of reports that were waiting for her.  She was going to see him through this.  He was going to beat this.  He had to.


	4. Residual Scarring 4

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

Washington, D.C. - The Lincoln Memorial

Josh Lyman sighed as he snapped his cell phone shut and dropped it into the pocket of his suit coat. He hated lying to his assistant.  He dropped down onto the step of the Lincoln Memorial, folded his arms across his knees, and rested his chin on his arms.  Not a very dignified position for a top level political operative, but at the moment he didn’t care. He didn’t really feel like a top level political operative.  He hated lying to Donna.  He thought over the conversation in his mind.  ‘Yeah, it went well.’  He had told her.  ‘I’m fine.  Look, I’m going to go straight to my lunch with Leo.  I’ll see you later.’

She had sounded relieved, although not totally convinced.

Josh blew out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and coughed a few times.  He gazed down The Mall.  There was something about sitting there in the late spring sun looking out at the city he’d grown to love.  The sight calmed him slightly, but as his mind began to wander the doubts crept in one by one.

 

‘I can’t do my job.  It’s not going to work for me to keep excusing myself from meetings to hack up a lung.  It’s bad for the Presidency; makes the administration look weak.’  Josh held his head in his hands, eyes closed.  He couldn’t stand to disappoint the President, to disappoint Leo.  He was tired of the looks his friends constantly cast him.  He tried to will it away.  ‘I should have been the one to die.’  The haunting statement that he’d repeated for years rang in his head.  ‘Why Joanie?  Why not me?’  He briefly gripped his head tighter before scrubbing his hands through his already mussed hair and looking up.

 

Josh looked at his watch and mentally did the calculations to guess at the correct time.  He needed to get back to the White House to meet Leo.  He stood and slung his backpack onto his shoulder.  Josh heaved a sigh then started down the steps and back to work.

The White House Mess

White House Chief of Staff, Leo McGarry looked up from his sandwich and scanned the room for the hundredth time.  This time he was rewarded with the sight of his deputy walking toward him, carrying a tray.  He noted with some concern the meager contents of Josh’s lunch; a muffin and a cup of coffee.  "Donna’s going to have your head if she finds out what you’re eating."  Leo stated as the younger man dropped wearily into the seat across from him.

Josh shot a guilty look at his boss.  "I don’t plan on telling her." he replied before dropping his gaze.

Leo took in Josh’s appearance with a growing sense of dread.  The man was pale and thin.  His face appeared drawn, and there were dark circles under his eyes.  A phrase he’d once heard Zoey Bartlet use leaped into his mind - ‘death on a Triscuit’.  Leo shook his head, upset at himself for the thought.  "How’d your morning go?"  He asked.

"Just great.  I hacked up a lung in the Oval office, nearly lost it in front of my assistant, and almost hacked up another lung in front of Senator Collins.  I’m on a roll here."  Josh answered bitterly, keeping his eyes focused on his meager lunch, too afraid to meet the intense gaze of his boss-mentor-friend.  He picked at the muffin.

"Okay.  I think today was too soon.  You’re going to finish your day early and go home.  You’re going to take the next couple of days off and get this under control."

Josh looked up in alarm.  "I don’t need more time off."  His voice was panicked.  The doubts that he’d pushed to the back of his mind came flooding back, echoing in his mind, even as he spoke to the contrary.  "I can do my job, Leo."

"I don’t doubt you can, but right now you’re going under, fast."  Leo reached across the table to place a hand on Josh’s arm.  "You are vital to this administration, Josh.  We can’t afford to loose you.  Go home.  Rest."

"Leo..."  Josh’s voice rose to a whine.

"I’m not arguing this with you Josh."

"Leo."

"No."  Leo’s voice was firm, his face set.

Josh looked away, his shoulders sagging in defeat.  He abruptly pushed away from the table and stood.  "I’m so sick of this."  He muttered angrily as he walked away.

"You didn’t eat."  Leo called after him.

"I’m not hungry."  Josh shot back over his shoulder as he left the Mess.

Leo watched him go, then picked up his cell phone and dialed.

The West Wing- Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff

Donna Moss had discovered long ago that her ability to multitask was an immensely valuable skill.  Now she sat at her desk going through files, eating lunch, and thinking about the phone call from her boss.  He had sounded exhausted and depressed.  While his words told her things had gone well and that he was fine, his tone and cadence told a completely different story.  She hated it when he lied to her, and she knew for certain that was what had happened.  Donna took a bite of sandwich and stared absently at the memo before her, reading but not absorbing the words.

"Have you heard from him?"  Sam Seaborn leaned against the door casing, hands in his pockets.

"He called after his meeting with Senator Collins."

"And?"

"He said it went fine.  He said he was fine."

"But you don’t believe him."  Sam closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest against the door casing.  Without bidding, the images of that morning’s incident in the Oval Office came to mind.  The memory of his best friend coughing, gagging, gasping for breath pained him.  He opened his eyes to see Donna watching him.  Sam flashed a weak smile and moved to drop into the visitor’s chair beside her desk.

Donna swiveled her chair to face Sam.  She dropped her hands into her lap.  "He didn’t sound fine.  He’s not himself.  This morning..."

"What happened this morning?"  Sam idly tapped a rhythm on his leg with his fingers.

"What do you mean?  You were there.  I wasn’t."

"He had a flashback, didn’t he" It came out more a statement then a question.  Sam had been mulling over the thought in his head all morning.  He was pretty certain that he’d recognized the outward signs.  "It wasn’t just the asthma and the bronchitis."

Donna nodded sadly.  "He’s really hurting and not just physically.  I’m afraid of losing him, Sam."

Sam reached over and captured Donna’s shaking hand in his own.  "We’re going to get through this.  Do you think we should call Stanley?"

"That may not be a bad idea."  Donna turned away from Sam to answer the ringing phone on her desk.  "Leo?  Aren’t you supposed to be having lunch with Josh?"

Sam looked quizzically at the blond assistant, the worried look on her face growing more intense.

"It’s light; two conference calls and an appointment with the respiratory therapist.  Yes, I can do that."  Donna looked up as Josh stormed down the hall, past them without so much as glancing in their direction, and slammed the office door behind him. "Yeah, that was him.  Okay.  Thank you Leo."  Donna hung up the phone and closed her eyes briefly as if gathering strength to continue.  She pushed herself to her feet and looked at Sam.  "I just may be making that call tonight."  Donna stopped at Josh’s door, hand on the knob.  She turned back to Sam, who sat still in the chair watching her.  "We have to get him through this intact."  She drew a deep breath and then entered the office, closing the door behind her.

Josh lay on the couch, eyes closed, right hand resting on his chest; his long, slender fingers lightly tracing the scar through the fabric of his shirt.  He heard the door of his office open but remained where he was.  "Go away Donna.  I don’t want to talk right now."  He heard her hesitate before she sat down on the couch next to his hip.  He kept his eyes closed; afraid they would betray the misery and turmoil he felt.  "Please."  He pleaded, his voice performing the betrayal he’d feared from his eyes.

Donna grasped his hand, stilling his fingers.  Josh felt the warmth of her touch spread through his fingers and chest and knew that he was going to loose the tenuous grasp on his composure.  Tears slipped from his closed eyes, and as he truly cried for the first time in a very long time, Donna gathered him in her arms and rocked him as if he were a small child.


	5. Residual Scarring 5

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**White House Press Briefing Room- Monday afternoon**

"C.J.! C.J.!"  Dozens of reporters clamored for the Press Secretary’s attention like so many baby birds crying for morsels from their mother.

C.J. Cregg looked over her glasses at the group before her and announced her choice for the source of the next question.  "Katie."  The reporters stilled to hear what that question would be.

"C.J. is there an update on Josh Lyman’s condition?"

"Josh Lyman is currently under a physician’s care for bronchitis and asthma.  He returned to work this morning to resume a light schedule.  I have been informed that he will make a full recovery, much to the disappointment of the Republicans, I’m sure."

"C.J.," A new voice spoke up immediately and everyone in the room turned their attention to the middle-aged bearded man in the fourth row.

"Danny."

"There have been several comments made by key Republican leaders that Josh Lyman is no longer fit to meet the demands of his position.  Does the White House have a response to these allegations?"

C.J. felt her anger rising and fought the desire to make a sarcastic response.  "Josh’s current illness has been directly connected to the injury he received last year when members of a white supremacist group shot at the President, his daughter, and his staff. No formal allegations have been made and Josh Lyman has the full support of the White House."

"A Republican Senator has called into question Josh’s mental state."

C.J.’s eyes hardened, but she made efforts to keep her tone light and joking.   "I frequently call into question his mental state; may I remind you of a certain secret plan to fight inflation?"  A chuckle rippled through the room.

"Seriously, C.J."

"The White House has no further comment at this time.  That’s it for now, folks."  C.J. removed her notebook from the podium and exited the room, heading for her office.  Danny Concannon fell into step beside her.

"They’re making some pretty strong allegations.  Look, I like Josh, I really do.  He’s been through a lot this year and I don’t want to see him hurt."

C.J. stopped and turned toward the reporter.  "There is nothing to these allegations.  Just a bunch of windbags blowing hot air about someone they don’t like.  He doesn’t need this right now."  C.J. looked down at her notebook and turned away from Danny.  "I’ve got to go."  She walked away from him without another word.

C.J. dropped into the chair behind her desk and pushed her hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand.  Danny’s questions echoed in her mind as she remembered the events of the morning’s Senior Staff meeting in the Oval Office.  She was concerned for Josh.  She’d been incredibly busy all day, and had not had the opportunity to check on her friend.  She pushed herself to her feet and heading out of her office.

She found Josh’s door closed and Donna’s desk empty.  She could hear Josh’s voice faintly through the heavy wood.  She knocked gently and was relieved when the door was opened from within.  Donna gave her a small smile and held a finger to her lips to request silence.  Josh looked up from his desk where he was on the phone.  He waved briefly to acknowledge her presence and turned his full attention back to the person to whom he was talking.

C.J. turned to Donna and spoke softly. "I came by..."  Josh looked up sharply and scowled at her.  She lowered her voice a little more. "I came by to see how he’s doing."

"He’s grumpy."  Donna replied quietly, earning another scowl from her boss. Donna flashed him a grin that said ‘impervious’ before mouthing the words "I’ll be right out here" as she pointed over her shoulder to her cubicle.  Josh continued to scowl, but nodded in response.

The two women moved out of the office, Donna closing the door behind her.  "It’s been a rough day."  She admitted, leaning against the closed door.  "He’ll tell you he’s fine, but it’s been a rough day."  Everything about Donna presented an air of professionalism, everything except her eyes.  Her eyes spoke loudly of exhaustion and worry.

C.J. resisted the sudden urge to gather the younger woman into a hug and comfort her.     "Do you think he came back too soon?"

"Yes, and Leo agrees with me.  In fact, he’s ordered Josh to take the next few days off to recuperate."

"I got some questions this afternoon from Danny Concannon.  Seems that some of Josh’s Republican fan club is shooting off at the mouth."  C.J.  paused and Donna cocked her head to the side, a puzzled expression on her face.  "And I quote, ‘There have been several comments made by key Republican leaders that Josh Lyman is no longer fit to meet the demands of his position.   A Republican Senator has called into question Josh’s mental state.’"

Donna closed her eyes, her shoulders sagged.  "He doesn’t need this."

"My sentiment exactly."

"We need to keep this away from him."

"That’s not going to be easy."

"He’s on his second, and last, conference call.  It seems to be going well.  The only other thing he has today is an appointment with his respiratory therapist.  I’m keeping his schedule clear for the afternoon."

"Donna!"  Josh bellowed through the closed door.

Donna raised her eyebrows, "Oscar bellows for me."

C.J. chuckled, knowing that Josh would not appreciate his assistant referring to him as a fuzzy green character from a children’s show.  "I’ll catch up with you later."  C.J. returned to her office as Donna slipped back into Josh’s.

Georgetown- Monday Night

"Sir.  Sir.  We’re here."  The cabbie’s voice cut through the fog in Josh’s brain.  He forced open his eyes and recognized his street and apartment building.

"Thanks."  Josh paid the fare and slowly climbed out of the taxi.  He gathered himself and started up the steps to his building.  He was so tired.  Donna had been the one who suggested that he was in no shape to be driving.  At the time he had argued with her, but now he was grateful.  He wondered if he even had the strength and energy to make it up to his apartment.

Although his schedule had been light, the day had been long and exhausting.  It was a day Josh was ready to be done with.  He had thought the appointment with the respiratory therapist was going to be short-they would talk a little and he’d be done and on his way home.  He should have known better.  They had talked for a while; about his attacks and what his triggers were and how to manage the attacks.  But then there had been another half hour of breathing exercises.  He had been embarrassed when one of the exercises ended in what he’d come to refer to as ‘an episode’.  The therapist had assured him it was okay.  Josh had left exhausted, sore and discouraged; and with another appointment for the following week.

Josh unlocked the door to his apartment and staggered inside.  He wanted nothing more then to collapse into bed and sleep.  He only made it as far as the couch.

"Hey!  Welcome home!" Sam Seaborn suddenly appeared from the kitchen.

"Jesus!"  Josh bolted upright, instantly awake, and whirled around on the couch to face Sam.  His eyes were wild.  "Sam!  Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"  Josh sank back on the couch briefly closing his eyes.  The pounding of his heart filled his ears.

"Sorry."  Sam sat down next to Josh.  "I didn’t mean to scare you.  I figured you’d notice my car parked out front and my stuff."  He motioned across the room.

For the first time Josh noticed Sam’s trench coat draped over the back of a chair and blue duffle bag and briefcase by the door.  He’d practically had to step over the bag to get into the room.  Josh groaned.  He took Sam’s hand and placed it against his chest.

Sam’s blue eyes widened when he felt the hammering of Josh’s heart.  "I really am sorry, man.  I didn’t mean to scare you so."

"It’s alright.  Normally I’d have noticed.  It’s just... it’s been a long day and I’m exhausted.  I just want to go to sleep."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes and suddenly something seemed to click in Josh’s mind.  He turned to look at his friend.  "What **are** you doing here?"

"Huh?"

"Why **are** you here?"

"Because I’m your best friend."  Sam gave a small shrug, as if his answer was the simplest, most obvious answer in the world.  Maybe it was.

"You drew the short straw, huh."

"Actually, I had to fight Donna and C.J. for it."

Josh smirked, his dimples showing.  "Now **that** would have been something to see!"  He chuckled.

Sam laughed and looked down.  "I’m surprised I won."  The two friends shared a laugh; a real laugh.  "You hungry?"

Josh tipped his head to the side slightly, thinking.  "A little."  He finally answered.

"Good!"  Sam stood and grabbed Josh’s hand to pull him to his feet.  "’Cause there’s some chicken getting cold in the kitchen."

Josh allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and pushed into the kitchen; drawing strength from friendship.


	6. Residual Scarring 6

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**The West Wing- Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff**

"You ready?"  Sam Seaborn appeared in the doorway of Josh Lyman’s office.

Josh looked up from the papers on his desk.  "Huh?"

"Our meeting with Lillienfield."

Josh groaned and dropped his head onto his desk, banging it a couple of times.  "Do we have to?"

Sam leaned against the door jam, hands in his pockets.  "Yeah, can’t get out of this one.  We’ve already postponed this meeting twice.  Lillienfield is going to think we don’t like him."

Josh sat up.  "We **don’t** like him."

"I’m just saying..."

"Let’s go."  Josh grabbed his backpack and followed Sam down the hall.

Capitol Hill- Office of Senator Peter Lillienfield

"Well, well; if it isn’t Bartlet’s Boy Wonders.  Are you here to hold his leash?"  Senator Lillienfield addressed Sam.

Sam saw Josh stiffen and steeled himself for the fight he knew would be coming.  He was surprised when Josh replied calmly.

"Senator, I apologize for all the delays.  I want to assure you that this bill is important.  It is important to us and I know it is important to you.  It’s a good program; it will help a lot of people."

"Do you really think it wise, sending him out to represent the administration?"  The Senator turned his attention back to Sam.

Before Sam could get any words out in response Josh spoke again.  "Senator, I am in the room; I can hear you."

"Lyman, do you honestly believe you have any influence here?  I must say, you have done very little to impress me of anything save incompetence.  The drug fiasco last year..."

"Senator Lillienfield, if you’d be willing to just look at the merits of the bill..."Josh kept a remarkable amount of control over his emotions.

Sam felt his own anger continue to rise as Lillienfield snorted a cynical laugh.

"You expect me to listen to you and take what you have to say seriously?"

"Sir, just forget about me for a minute and look at the bill."  Josh stressed the last four words.  He fought hard to control his anger.  Lillienfield was a small, petty man, and Josh was determined to keep his focus on the importance of the legislation.  He was determined not to let Lillienfield get to him.

Lillienfield leaned back in his chair.  He had complete control of the situation.  The two White House Senior Staffers stood before him, the fact he’d not offered them a seat obvious to everyone.  He felt like a monarch being beseeched by the envoys of a rival king.  He reveled in the feeling, and the power to toy with these two young men he so despised.  "I’m honestly not surprised, though.  This seems to be the hallmark of this administration; to employ and champion drunks, addicts, and the mentally incompetent."

 

Josh paled, his breath caught in his chest.  He was suddenly aware of a buzzing in his ears.  He could see Lillienfield’s lips moving, but no sound registered in his mind.  He was vaguely aware of Sam standing close to his left shoulder.  "Senator..."  Josh felt his voice failing him.  "The funding for the community enrichment program..."  Josh made one last attempt to refocus the meeting.

 

"Lyman," Lillienfield interrupted again.  "I don’t think I can make my opinion any clearer."

 

"Senator," Sam stepped in front of Josh, as if to physically protect him from the verbal blows that were continuing to come.

 

"Seaborn, you can take back to your bleeding-heart President that it would be in his best interest to appoint a Deputy Chief of Staff who is not in need of therapy.  In the meantime he should send political operatives who can actually operate politically."

 

A small noise escaped from Josh’s throat.  Sam wasn’t sure if it was horror, humiliation, or anger.  He glanced briefly to his right.  Josh’s face was completely white, his eyes wide, his body visibly shaking.  Sam’s anger exploded.  His voice rose with each word.  "Senator Lillienfield, how dare you?  I’ve never witnessed such unprofessional, immature..."

 

"Sam..."  Josh’s voice was barely audible.  He put a shaking hand on Sam’s arm as the younger man started to move toward Lillienfield.

 

"This isn’t over."  Sam grabbed his briefcase and Josh’s backpack and ushered his stricken friend out of the office.

 

"No boys, I’m sure it isn’t."  Lillienfield sat back with a smug smile as he watched them leave.

 

West Wing- Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff

When C.J. found Josh he was slouched in his office chair, gazing out the window.  One elbow was propped on the arm of the chair, his head resting in his hand.  The other hand lay on his chest, fingers subtly moving along the ridge of the hidden scar.  C.J. sat against the edge of his desk, just behind him and to his left.  They sat in silence, the only sound the slight wheezing of Josh’s breathing.

"How’d the meeting go?"  C.J. finally broke the silence.

Josh’s right hand stilled at the sound of her voice.  He leaned his head against the back of the chair and folded his hands across his stomach.  "Fine."

"Sam told me what happened."

Josh stiffened, "So why’d you ask?"

"Because I’m worried about you."

"Worried about how you’re going to spin this, you mean."  Josh snorted.

C.J. grabbed Josh’s chair and swung him around to face her; her eyes blazing.  "How dare you assume I care so little for my friends!"

Josh dropped his eyes, unable to meet her fierce gaze.  "Just when I thought I was getting a grip on this... thing... just when I felt like I was getting it together, this happens."

"When did you start listening to Republicans?"

Josh swiveled his chair back toward the window.  "It’s hard to ignore them when they’re echoing the voices in your head."

C.J. sat in stunned silence.  She placed a hand on his shoulder.  Her heart sank when he flinched at her touch.  "Josh..."

"Don’t."  There was a touch of bitterness to his tone.

"Don’t what?  Don’t care about you?  Don’t wish I could take away your pain?  Don’t support you?  Don’t plot ways to rid the world of evil Republicans?"  C.J.’s lips curled to a small smile when she felt Josh give a silent chuckle at her comment about Republicans.  "Why do you insist on shutting your friends out and trying to face this on your own?"

The tension began to drain from Josh.  He sagged in his chair and tipped his head to the side, resting it against C.J.’s arm.  She squeezed his shoulder.  They sat in silence for several minutes; C.J. waiting for him to open up, Josh wrestling with the demons he’d been fighting for so long.

"I..."  Josh paused, his inner struggle becoming evident.  "I’m not use to..."  Josh stopped again.  He dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes.  "I can’t C.J.  I appreciate all you’re trying to do.  I’m sorry.  I just..."

C.J. squeezed his shoulder again.  "I know.  Remember I’m here for you, Mi Amour; always."  She stood, not breaking the contact with him.  "I’ve got to go, I’ve got a briefing.  Hang in there, Josh.  We’ll get you through this.  You really aren’t alone."

Josh gave a barely perceivable nod of his head.  C.J. held back a sigh as she squeezed his shoulder one more time before leaving the room.  She gave a quick shake of her head when she passed by Donna, who frowned in response.  C.J. headed to her office to grab her notes for the press briefing and Donna headed into Josh’s office.

Donna found her boss in the same position that C.J. had left him; facing the windows, head down, and eyes closed.  Donna quietly closed the door behind her and moved across the room.  She stood next to Josh, one hand resting gently on top of his unruly brown curls.  "I’ve placed a call.  You meet with Dr. Stanley tomorrow afternoon."

Josh’s head came up.  "Donna."  His voice was low and threatening.  "I don’t need..."

"I don’t think you know what you need, Josh." Donna’s eyes flashed the anger and frustration she was trying to hide.  "You’ve been dragging yourself around here, barely holding yourself together.  You’re jumpy, and you’re pissy at everyone.  Your nightmares have been getting worse..."  Josh opened his mouth to speak, but Donna kept going.  "Sam has noticed, too.  He told me.  Look Josh, you’re not talking to any of us, and even if you were, I’m not so sure we’d know how to help you."

Josh held Donna’s gaze for a moment before looking away.  "I’m sorry, Donna, sorry for everything."  He picked up an envelope from his desk and walked past her, "Would you clear my schedule for the rest of the day?  I’m going to see Leo."  Josh opened the door and paused at the pleading, puzzled tone in Donna’s voice

"Josh?"

"I really am sorry."  Josh’s voice was soft and strained.  Without another word he left the bullpen.


	7. Residual Scarring 7

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**White House- Office of the Chief of Staff**

The frown on Leo McGarry’s weathered face deepened as he read the single sheet of paper in his hand.  He finished reading and looked up at Josh who was standing in front of his desk nervously shifting from one foot to the other.  "Josh?"

The younger man kept his head down, unable to meet Leo’s eyes.

"Is this for real?"

"I... I just think this is for the best."  Josh stammered his voice soft and strained.

Leo studied his deputy; who appeared thin and pale.  There were new worry lines creasing the once boyish face.  Josh looked up briefly then dropped his gaze back to the carpet.  The haunted look in his brown eyes startled Leo.  He’d seen that look in those eyes before, but not for at least 30 years.  Dropping the paper on his desk, he stood and walked to door.  "Margaret, hold my calls please."  He closed the door behind him and grasping Josh’s elbow lightly, steered his deputy to the couch.  "Josh, what’s going on?"

Josh studied his hands.  He turned his right hand palm up and stared at the scar.  He could feel Leo’s eyes studying him, but couldn’t bring himself to meet his mentor’s gaze.  He wasn’t sure if the heaviness in his chest was from the asthma and lingering bronchitis or from the intense guilt and failure he felt.  Josh spoke with emotion choking his voice.  "I’m sorry, Leo.  I can’t do my job.   I’m only hurting the President."

The agony in Josh’s voice tore at Leo’s heart.  He put a comforting arm around the younger man’s shoulders.  Josh initially stiffened at the touch, and then his shoulders sagged.  Leo pulled him into a loose embrace.  "I meant what I said before.  You are vital to this administration.  For God sake, Josh, you got him elected!  I’ve fought for your job on several occasions and I’m going to fight for it now.  Although, I must say, this is the first time I’ve had to fight you.  Usually I’m trying to convince the President not to fire you."

Pulling away from Leo, Josh put his head in his hands.  "I don’t know how he found out, but he knew.  I’m surprised he hasn’t called a press briefing to announce it yet."

"What are you talking about?"  Leo kept a hand on Josh’s back, as if afraid that he would simply slip away if the contact was broken.

"Lillienfield.  He knew.  I don’t know how he found out.  He knows about Christmas.  He knows."  Josh fought the hysteria that threatened to overtake him.  He drew a few deep breaths, bringing his breathing under control as the respiratory therapist had taught him.

Leo looked across the room, not really seeing the office, as he worked to put together what was being said and what course of action he was going to take. "I know you’re not going to like this, but you have to trust me.  Donna’s going to take you home.  I’m going to find out just what Senator Lillienfield knows.  This is going to be straightened out.  You’re career is not over."

"Leo."  Josh’s tone was pleading.

"Josh, I asked you to trust me.  You’re sick, you’re tired, and you’re depressed.  This year has been crap and you keep getting it thrown at you.  I’m going to take care of this."

Leo went to the door.  He stopped and turned back.  Josh remained on the couch with his head in his hands.  Leo shook his head and then slipped out of the office.  "Margaret, I need Donna Moss and Sam Seaborn, immediately.  Tell Donna to make sure Josh’s schedule is clear the rest of the day."  Margaret immediately picked up the phone with none of her usual questioning.  Leo slipped back into his office; Josh hadn’t moved.

‘I’m so sorry, Noah.’ Leo thought.  ‘I promised I’d take care of him, and I’ve tried.  I’ll fix this.  He won’t be destroyed by this.’

White House- Outer Office of the Chief of Staff

Donna Moss rushed into Margaret’s work area, face flushed and eyes wide.  "He did it, didn’t he?"  She asked with disbelief.

Sam looked away from Donna, his face drawn.  "I think so."

Margaret stood and led the blond toward the closed office door.  "He’s in with Leo."  She knocked on the door and opened it.  "Leo, Donna’s here."  She stepped back and motioned for Donna to enter.

Donna brought a slender hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.  Josh sat hunched on the couch, head in hands and his entire body shaking.  Leo sat beside him, a gentle hand on his back, speaking softly.  He looked up when Donna came in.

"Donna, is everything taken care of for this afternoon?"  Leo stood and moved across the room.  Donna nodded, not taking her eyes off her boss.  "Good."  He turned slightly away from Josh and spoke softly to Donna.  "Take him home.  Stay with him.  He needs to eat and sleep.  See if you can get him to talk.  Make an appointment with his therapist for tomorrow."

Donna’s eyes flitted briefly to Leo then back to the man huddled on the couch.  "I’ve already taken care of that, even before he came to see you."

"Okay then.  Okay."  Leo nodded and then turned to look at Josh.  "I’ll call you tonight."  He walked slowly to the couch.  "Josh," His voice was soft and gentle, as if speaking to a small, frightened child. "Donna’s going to take you home.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  I promise this will be taken care of."

Leo gently pulled Josh to his feet.  Donna slipped a hand under his elbow and grimly led him out.  The Deputy Chief of Staff kept his eyes down cast.

Sam looked up when the door opened and fought the urge to look away when Donna and Josh emerged.  He watched them leave the office with a heavy heart.

"Sam."  Leo appeared at the door and motioned for him to enter.

He rose with trepidation, fearing what he was about to be told.  Sam entered the office and waited as Leo closed the door and walked over to lean against the large desk.  He dropped wearily into a visitor’s chair when his boss motioned for him to sit.

"Is Josh still..."

"He tried to resign, but I’m not going to accept it.  What happened with Lillienfield today?"

Sam closed his eyes.  Relief washed over him at the news that his best friend was still employed, but it was quickly replaced by a sick feeling as the memory of the meeting with the Senator played in his mind.

"I didn’t think it was possible for Lillienfield to be a bigger horse’s ass, but he definitely proved me wrong today.  I tell you Leo, I don’t know how that man got elected."

"What happened?"

"Lillienfield sat there and launched a verbal assault on my best friend, who just stood there and took it."

"Josh thinks Lillienfield knows about his therapy and about last Christmas.  What do you think?

Sam sighed and leveled his gaze at his boss.  "I think Lillienfield is grasping at straws.  I think he’s trying to get back at us for the drug use thing.  I think he’s been re-reading his college general psych text book and is playing arm chair psychologist.  And I think Josh is in trouble."

Leo pulled a hand over his mouth and looked up in silent prayer.  "Yeah.  We need to find out exactly what Lillienfield knows, and we need to find out this afternoon.  I want answers by the time I call Donna this evening.  Get C.J. in on this.  We need to make sure Josh isn’t crucified by the press over this.  I don’t trust Lillienfield."

"Yes Sir."  Sam stood and started for the door.  He stopped and turned back to his boss.  His blue eyes bright, reflecting his conflicting emotions. "I don’t know what was worse, Leo; listening to Lillienfield’s attack, or watching Josh stand there and take it.   He’s not himself."

"I know, Sam, I know."  Leo answered.

"I’ll let you know when I’ve learned something."  Sam turned and exited the office.

Leo looked around his suddenly empty office.  The weight of the situation overwhelming him, he sank on the couch. 


	8. Residual Scarring 8

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**White House- Office of the Chief of Staff**

President Jed Bartlet looked up from the paper in his hand.  He peered over his reading glasses at his Chief of Staff who sat rigid on the couch.  "Is this the real thing?"  There was disbelief in his voice.  Leo McGarry nodded, holding the President’s gaze with his own piercing blue eyes.  The President read the page again before tossing it onto the Chief of Staff’s desk.  "I won’t accept this."  The disbelief was still evident but slowly being replaced by an entirely new range of emotions.

"Nor will I, which was what I told him."

"What’s being done?"  Jed Bartlet removed his glasses and held them over the side of the chair by the bow, swinging them slightly.  His mind was partially on Leo’s response, and partially beginning to run through possibilities and form his own plan.

"Sam is doing a Sherlock Holmes.  He’ll let me know when he’s learned something.  Donna has taken Josh home and he’ll see his therapist tomorrow."

The President sighed and folding his glasses, stored them in his shirt pocket.  "When is that boy going to get a break, Leo?"

"Hopefully soon, Sir, hopefully soon."  Leo McGarry turned his gaze toward the window and the two friends sat in silence.

"I want Lillienfield taken out and shot.  Can I do that?"

Leo smiled and chuckled.  "I don’t think so, Sir."

"I should be able to."

White House- Office of Deputy Communications Director

Sam Seaborn replaced the phone receiver on the cradle and turned his chair slightly toward the window.  He rested his chin on his hand, a faint imitation of the famous "thinker" statue.  There was a faraway look in his eyes and C.J. Cregg had to say his name several times after having knocked to get his attention.

"What did you find out?"  C.J. closed the door behind her before sitting in a visitor’s chair across from Sam.

"If Lillienfield knows anything, which by the way I’m not convinced he does, whoever gave him the information hasn’t left any tracks."  Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his burning eyes.  "I’ve talked with ATVA and with Dr. Stanley’s office.  Any records they have are locked up tight with no evidence that they’ve ever been taken or seen by anyone who shouldn’t have access."

"What about someone here?  That girl from personnel that you fired last year."

"Karen Larson?  Believe me when I tell you she was the first one I checked out."  Sam shook his head.  "The kid has problems and I certainly don’t agree with Leo giving her a second chance, but she isn’t the leak this time."

C.J. watched Sam as he began to idly fiddle with his pen.  Her own emotions were in turmoil; anger at Lillienfield, concern for Josh, and fear of what was going to happen.  She could see the same emotions playing across the face of the Deputy Communications Director, with the addition of guilt and frustration.

"C.J. I am absolutely nowhere with this.  I’m suppose to tell Leo what I’ve found out; what Lillienfield knows.  I’ve found nothing.  No evidence to back anything."  He dropped the pen and sagged back in his chair, eyes closed.  When Sam spoke again the frustration that had been so clear was replaced with exhaustion and helplessness.  "He’s my best friend.  I’m just standing by and watching him drown."   He opened his eyes and met C.J.’s intense gaze.  "How about you, did you get anywhere with the press?"

The Press Secretary frowned and shook her head.  "I don’t think anyone’s been approached yet.  Danny said that there have been rumors and rumblings, but nothing definite.  He’s promised that he’ll let me know the minute he gets any information.  He won’t take a story that will hurt Josh, not like this."

"We’re absolutely nowhere."  Sam sighed and pushed himself to his feet.  "I have to go tell Leo that I know absolutely nothing."

"Come find me when you’re done; we’ll go see Josh.  I’ve got a briefing to do."   C.J. placed a supportive hand briefly on Sam’s arm then walked out of the office.

Sam drew a shaky breath before heading for Leo’s office and a conversation he was not looking forward to.

Georgetown- Josh Lyman’s Apartment

Josh had been silent since leaving Leo’s office.  He hadn’t even looked up once, allowing Donna to steer him and direct his movements.  Now he lay curled into a near fetal position on his couch.  Donna had removed his shoes and tie before covering him with a blanket and going into the kitchen to make some tea.  She doubted she’d be able to get him to drink any, but she figured she’d at least try.  The entire situation was unnerving her and, feeling the need to stay strong for Josh’s sake, she wanted a mug for herself.

Donna set two steaming mugs on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, her back against Josh’s stomach.  He remained still, eyes closed, not responding to her presence.  Donna watched her boss.  She could hear the slight wheezing of his breathing.  His face was flushed and he was starting to sweat.  She frowned.  She could feel slight tremors against her back.  "Josh?"  She reached out to gently lay a hand on his forehead.  They both flinched at the contact; he from the simple touch, she from the heat radiating off his body.

"Josh, you’re burning up!" Donna moved her hand to cup his cheek.

"...mm feel good..."  Josh mumbled.

Donna wasn’t sure if he was saying he didn’t feel good, or that her cool touch felt good.  He didn’t seem very coherent and that worried her even more.  "I’ll be right back."  She went into the bathroom and rummaged in the cupboard before returning with a thermometer.  "Open up."  She said as she sat back down on the couch.

It didn’t take long for the digital thermometer to beep and Donna was alarmed to see the 101.4 reading.  "How long have you been feeling this bad?"

Josh forced open his eyes briefly but didn’t seem to have the strength to keep them open.  "Not sure.  A while, I guess.  I think the fever’s new."  His voice shook.

Donna’s countenance fell, her shoulders slumped.  "Oh, Josh."  She brushed his hair back.  "Can you sit up and drink some tea?"

Josh nodded and struggled up right.  Donna stuffed some pillows behind him then helped him hold the mug while he took a few sips of the hot liquid.  He relaxed back against the pillows while she put the mug on the coffee table.  She sat watching him as he tried to find a comfortable position.  He finally settled and closed his eyes.  The semi-upright position seemed to help him breathe more easily and it was only a few moments before he was dozing.

Donna moved carefully to the chair.  She tucked her legs under her and picked up her mug.  Knowing she had work she could be doing, she chose to simply sit and watch Josh sleep, her mind turning over recent events.

White House- Chief of Staff’s Office

"It’s not your fault, Sam.  I know you did your best.  We’ll keep at it."  Leo tried to reassure the crestfallen young man.

"I’m sorry Leo.  There’s nothing.  No evidence.  Nothing that says he isn’t doing anything but grasping at straws."  Sam turned his focus to the T.V. set on Leo’s bookcase, which was tuned to C.J.’s press briefing.

Leo followed his gaze. Reaching for the remote, he un-muted the sound.  The two men watched the entire briefing in tense silence while C.J. fielded questions about the President’s recent trip to Michigan, an up-coming speaking engagement, and flooding in the south.  They held their breath as Katie asked about the status of the bill that Sam and Josh had been working on.

Sam stared hard at the screen, silently praying that no one would bring up the meeting with Lillienfield.

C.J. quickly answered Katie’s question and called a full lid.

Sam felt weak with relief.  Nothing had come up about Josh and it looked like they would have more time to deal with the crisis.  He turned to Leo to find his boss leaning against the big desk, the Chief of Staff’s lined face displaying the relief that Sam was feeling.  "I’m not giving up on this.  There has got to be something; a memo, a phone call, an email, something."

"I know, son.  Keep me informed."

"Thank you Sir."

Leo watched Sam leave, then walked wearily around his desk and sank into his large chair.  He sat staring across the room for a few moments before picking up the phone, accessing an outside line and dialing Josh Lyman’s home number.

Georgetown-Josh Lyman’s Apartment

Donna Moss sat in the chair watching Josh sleep; her arms wrapped around her legs, and chin resting on her knees.  The room was dim, being lit by a light left on in the kitchen.  Enough light fell across the couch that she could see his face, but not enough to disturb his sleep.  He had been sleeping for about two hours but it wasn’t a very peaceful sleep. His slumber was repeatedly interrupted by coughing and nightmares.  Twice he’d woken up screaming in terror.  He had only stirred briefly when the phone rang with Leo’s call to tell Donna that they hadn’t been able to find out anything.  She had mentioned her concern over Josh’s fever and Leo decided they would check in with each other in the morning and decide the next step.

Josh moved restlessly and whimpered quietly.  Donna rose from her chair to sit on the couch next to him.  She began gently rubbing his back and he stilled.  A moment later he opened his eyes.

"Hey."  She gave him a small smile despite her concern over the heat radiating from his body and the feverish look in his eyes.

"Hi."  Josh’s voice was scratchy.  He closed his eyes and let his body relax under her touch.

"You should try to eat something.  I warmed up some soup."

Josh made a face at the thought of eating.  "Okay, but I really just want something to drink."

"I’ll bring you some juice."

By the time Donna returned from the kitchen Josh had propped himself up against the pillows.  With her help he was able to eat and drink some.  Unfortunately he tired quickly and after a few minutes he pushed the bowl away. 

Josh closed his burning eyes.  He felt like crap.  His body hurt and he felt hot.  The soup and juice had tasted good and he tried to remember if he’d eaten lunch.  His head felt packed with cotton; it was hard to think, his mind kept wandering.  Suddenly his stomach surged with nausea and he felt the bile rise in his throat.  His eyes snapped open and he was surprised to find Donna watching him closely, a worried look on her face.

"I’m going to be sick."

Donna sprang from the couch and pulled him to his feet.  They made it to the bathroom just in time for Josh to drop to the floor in front of the toilet before his stomach expelled the soup and juice.  She knelt beside him, one hand on his forehead, the other on his stomach, arm wrapped around his waist.  "It’s okay.  Just relax and let it come."   She quietly encouraged and comforted him.

Josh continued to heave for several minutes after his stomach had completely expelled its contents.  Finally the spasms stopped.  He spat a few times before collapsing against Donna.  They sat on the floor leaning against the vanity.  Donna’s arms were wrapped tightly around a shaking Josh, his head against her shoulder.

"You okay?"  She asked after a few minutes.  She felt him nod his head against her collar bone.  "Let’s get you cleaned up."  Donna pushed him against the vanity and stood to get a cup of water and a damp cloth.  She pulled him slowly to his feet and he leaned heavily against the sink.  Josh rinsed his mouth while she washed his face and neck with the cloth.  He let her help him into the bedroom and she sat him down on the bed and undid his shirt and pants.  "Come on Josh, help me out here.  Get your self undressed and into bed."

He barely seemed to hear her or understand what she was saying.  Exasperated and more then a little concerned Donna finished stripping him down to his t-shirt and boxers and pushed him back onto the mattress.  After pulling the covers up over him she went to the kitchen to retrieve ginger ale and crackers.  Josh had dozed off again by the time she returned.

"Come on, wake up."  She nudged him gently.  "I want to take you’re temperature."

Josh groaned but complied.  Once again a short amount of time passed before the instrument beeped.  Donna was disheartened by the reading.  "101.9. I don’t like this Josh."

"Just let me sleep."  He mumbled.

Donna watched Josh sleep for several minutes before going to the living room and collapsing on the couch.  It didn’t take too long for her to doze off herself.  Twenty minutes later a knocking on the door woke her.  She lay on the couch for a minute before remembering that she was in Josh’s apartment and that someone knocking on the front door was what had woken her.  "I’m coming.  I’m coming."  She mumbled as she pushed herself up and stumbled to the door to admit C.J. and Sam.

A Georgetown Pub

"Daniel Concannon?"

The Post reporter looked up to see a young woman with a messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

"Yes."

"Great.  Here ya go."  She pulled a large sealed envelope out of her bag and double checked the name before handing it over.  She smiled when Danny tipped her and wished him a good night before taking her leave.

Danny Concannon took a swig of his beer as he examined the envelope.  The only markings were his name neatly typed on the front.  He ripped open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper with a post-it note stuck on the front.  His eyes widened as he read the note and the paper.  "Well, well, well. This makes things interesting."  Danny took another swig of his beer before reaching for his cell phone.

Georgetown-Josh Lyman’s Apartment

_< < Josh could feel the heat from the flames.  It was making him sweat.  He looked around in panic.  Where was Joanie?  He called out, but got no response.  He turned and tried to peer through the smoke, but couldn’t see anything.  It was getting difficult to breathe.  The heat was becoming unbearable.  He turned again and ran.  His progress was stopped by a wall of flames.  He headed in a different direction, the panic continuing to rise in his chest, his heart racing.  He felt the flames licking at his back.  Where was Joanie?  She always took care of him.  He turned a corner and came up short, gasping in horror.  There was his sister, surrounded by flames.  Josh screamed.  He tried to reach her, but the fire was too hot.  He could feel the flames beginning to burn him. >>_

Josh Lyman’s Living Room

Sam Seaborn turned away from the window and walked back to the couch were he sank down next to Donna.  "There’s something that I’m not seeing.  I mean Lillienfield had to get information from somewhere.  Why else would he treat Josh the way he did?  It wasn’t just Lillienfield being an ass.  Either he knows something or someone suggested a possibility."

"Okay, so there’s no proof of a leak from either of the doctors’ offices."  C.J. stretched out her legs, propping her feet on the coffee table in front of her.  "What about our own house?"

"You already ruled out Karen Larson?"  Donna asked.

Sam nodded.  "That doesn’t mean someone else hasn’t been talking to Lillienfield or his staff.  We’ve got to be able to find some proof.  God, these people aren’t perfect! They have to have made a mistake."

"Calm down..."  C.J. was interrupted by a scream of terror emanating from the bedroom.  The three friends froze for a brief second, their eyes meeting before they rose and rushed down the hall.

Donna was first to reach the bedroom and find Josh sitting up in bed, nearly hyperventilating and soaked with sweat.

"Josh!  Josh!  It’s okay, you’re having dream."  Donna sat next to him and gripped his shoulders trying to bring him back to reality.  "Come on Josh; take a deep breath for me."  

Josh suddenly sagged and Donna pulled him into a tight embrace.  He was shaking and drawing gasping breaths. Donna rocked him gently.  "Shh... it’s okay, Josh.  I’m here.  It’s okay."  She looked up at C.J. and Sam hovering in the doorway.  "I think his temps gone up even more.  Sam, can you get a fresh t-shirt from his drawer?"

As Sam came all the way into the room Donna pushed Josh back against the pillows.  The bedding was soaked with his sweat.  His eyes were unfocused and tears were streaming down his face.

"Josh, can you hear me?"  Donna shook him gently to get his attention.  He turned toward her, his eyes feverish.  "Josh, I want to take you’re temperature."

"...thirsty..."

"I know, let me take you’re temperature first."  Donna stuck the thermometer in Josh’s mouth and watched his face while she waited for the instrument to record his temperature. Her hand rested on his heaving chest.  When the electronic tone sounded Donna grabbed the thermometer.  She read it and looked grimly up at C.J. who was still standing in the doorway.  "102.4" Her voice was soft.  "We need to get him to the hospital."


	9. Residual Scarring 9

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**GW Hospital**

Leo McGarry paused outside the semi-private waiting room.  He was surprised to see Sam Seaborn sitting alone in the room.  C.J. had been the one who called him and he had assumed the Press Secretary would be with Sam.  It made sense that Donna was probably with Josh, but C.J,’s absence puzzled him.  Leo stood in the hallway watching Sam.  The youngest member of the Senior Staff, Sam was viewed as everyone’s kid brother.  He wondered if that ever bothered the young man.  It was easy to forget what a brilliant speech writer he was when you took in his boyish good looks or witnessed his tendency to trip over things.  At the moment the young speech writer sat hunched over, chin in his hand and a forlorn look on his face; looking for all the world like a lost little boy.  Leo pushed open the door and spoke to Sam, who was slow to react.

Leo’s entrance slowly registered in Sam’s foggy brain.  He started to stand, but Leo’s hand on his shoulder gently stopped him.  The older man sat beside him and watched him while he tried to clear his mind and focus.

"How is he?"

Images of Josh collapsing in the Roosevelt Room and then the Oval Office slammed into Sam’s brain, causing him to flinch.  They were quickly replaced by the more recent memory of a sweat soaked Deputy Chief of Staff, delirious with fever, shaking in his arms as he and Donna maneuvered him into a car.  Sam squeezed his eyes shut, willing the images to go away.  He shuddered as the image of his best friend, unconscious on a hospital gurney and being wheeled away from him, settled in his mind.  He jumped at a touch on his arm and opened his eyes to see Leo sitting beside him, concern lining his face.

"Sam?"

The Deputy Communications Director swallowed and felt a small smile play across his lips as he realized the irony of the situation.  He, speech writer for the Leader of the Free World, was at a loss for words.

"Sam?"  Leo spoke again, his voice gentle as if trying to calm a traumatized child.

Sam looked down at his hands and took a deep breath.  If he didn’t say something soon he knew Leo was going to start jumping to all kinds of horrendous conclusions, if he hadn’t already.  He knew he couldn’t do that to the man who thought of Josh as a son.

"Josh is sick.  His body wasn’t able to fight the infection."  Sam paused before speaking the next part, still having trouble believing it himself.  He turned to face Leo.  "There was a problem with his medications.  An interaction or an allergic reaction, they’re not sure yet.  Instead of making him better, they were making him sicker."

The older man leaned back in the chair, as if delivered a physical blow.  "Is he going to be alright?"

"His fever is pretty high.  He hasn’t woken up since we brought him in.  The doctors said he’s severely dehydrated and they’re still running tests to find out what’s going on."  Sam stood, suddenly feeling confined in the small room.  "He’s in ICU.  They’re letting Donna stay with him."

"Sam, it’s nearly midnight.  You should go home.  Get some rest."

The younger man looked at the cell phone in his hand.  He didn’t remember picking it up, but must have at some point in his conversation with Leo.  He turned the device over in his hand.  "I’m waiting to hear from C.J."  He replied absently.  Then, as an after thought, "Does the President know?  And has anyone told Toby?"  He vaguely remembered C.J. on the phone as he and Donna had wrestled a delirious Josh into his car.  She must have called Leo.  Did she call Toby as well?  He couldn’t remember.  Sam rubbed his hand over weary eyes and tried to remember the events of the evening.  He leaned against a wall and slipped his hands into his pockets.  Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he forced himself to focus.

~~~ _Josh shaking, tears streaming down his face; stumbling, almost falling as coughing wracked his body.  Donna and Sam on either side of Josh, keeping him up-right; across the apartment, down the stairs and to Sam’s car.  Donna climbing into the backseat with Josh and holding him.  Sam sliding behind the wheel and starting the engine.  C.J. sitting in the front passenger seat, cell phone pressed to her ear.  Donna’s cry of alarm when they were halfway to the hospital.  Josh’s unresponsiveness and the uncharacteristic stillness of his body.  The panic rising in Sam’s chest and reflected in all of their faces.  The shrill sound of C.J.’s cell phone ringing...~~~_

"...and he’s waiting to hear..."

"What?"  Sam suddenly realized Leo was speaking to him.

"C.J. called Toby after she called me.  I was with the President so he’s waiting to hear from me as to Josh’s condition.  Where is C.J.?"

Sam looked up to find Leo watching him closely.  He wiped a hand over his face and was startled to find his cheeks wet with tears.  "She had to meet Danny.  Said he had important information that couldn’t wait."  Sam’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized the impact of Danny Concannon’s call.  "He has information about Lillienfield!"  In his pocket Sam’s hand tightened around the cell phone, as if to squeeze the call out of it.

Georgetown Pub

C.J. Cregg dropped into a chair across from Danny Concannon; the stress of the day radiating off her body.  "What ‘ya got, Danny?"

"How’s Josh?"  Danny ignored her question and reached across the table to clasp her hand.

"Not good.  He was still unconscious when I left and the doctors were running tests.  Look Danny, I appreciate what you’re doing, really I do, but right now I’d rather be with my friends."

Danny winced but ignored what he was sure was an unintentional jab.  "This was delivered to me by messenger this evening."  He slid the envelope across the table to rest in front of C.J.  When she sat unmoving, looking at the envelope, Danny tapped it with his fingers before with-drawing his hand.

C.J. took a deep breath, then picked up the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper.  Her eyes widened as she read.  "Where did you get this?"  C.J. demanded.

"It was delivered by messenger."

"Danny."

"I’m not revealing my sources, C.J."

She looked down at the paper again.  "I need to show this to Sam."  She stuffed the paper back into the envelope as she stood.  "I’ve got to get back to the hospital."

"I’m coming with you."  Danny stood, dropping some bills onto the table.  He followed C.J. through the bar to the street.

GW Hospital

The hospital was quiet, the late hour adding to the somber atmosphere of the Intensive Care Unit.  Sam was once again alone; Leo having left to phone the White House with an update of what little information they’d been given by the doctors.  He stood leaning against the wall of the small semi-private waiting room.  His tie hanging loose, his dark hair mussed, his eyes closed and looking as if he’d fallen asleep on his feet.  He was startled by C.J. bursting into the room.

"Any news on Josh?"  She demanded without preamble.

Sam moved stiffly across the room and dropped heavily into a chair, fixing his gaze on the floor tiles.  "He’s still unconscious.  They don’t have all the test results back, but his fever hasn’t risen in the last half hour."

C.J. lowered herself into the chair next to him.  She suddenly felt the weariness wash over her body, the days events catching up with her.  She could feel the same exhaustion radiating off Sam.  Placing a comforting hand on her friend’s arm, she held Danny’s envelope in front of him.  "Take a look at this."

He took it from her, wearily pulling the page free.  He visibly tensed as he read, sitting up straight.  He looked up, noticing Danny for the first time.  "Where’d you get this?"

"Don’t bother.  He won’t tell you.  It clearly originated from someone inside the West Wing."

Sam read the paper again, lips silently moving with the words.  He looked up to meet C.J.’s gaze.  "I know this style.  I recognize this writing."

They were interrupted by the door opening to admit Leo.  Toby Ziegler was close behind him.

 "Any news?"  Toby asked, casting a dark look in the reporter’s direction before settling in the chair on the other side of his deputy.

C.J. shook her head and repeated what Sam had told her just minutes earlier.

"Look at this."  Sam handed the page to his boss.

Toby read the paper several times before handing it to Leo.

"Steve Joyce."  Sam said.

"Yeah."

"It’s got to be.  That’s his writing."

"Wait a minute."  C.J. spoke up.  "You fired Joyce and Brookline before Christmas.  That memo describes Josh’s behavior in the weeks just prior to Christmas and the fact he was in a day-long meeting Christmas Eve.  And points out the fact that it is the same day doctors from the American Trauma Victims Association were present in the building; in a day-long meeting.  There is no way Joyce could know what happened."

"He could have friends in the White House still; someone who told him about what happened."  Leo handed the paper back to Sam then turned to Danny.  "What do you intend to do with this?"

"Nothing."  Danny shrugged.  "I’m not going to do anything with this.  The intent was to bring Josh down. I won’t be party to that.  I may not always agree with what you do, but I consider Josh a friend and I won’t malign him like this."

"Thank you."  C.J. smiled for the first time all evening.


	10. Residual Scarring 10

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**GW Hospital- Intensive Care Unit**

Josh lay unmoving in the hospital bed.  Wires ran from his body to various monitors.  An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose.  Even through the oxygen mask the wheezes of his breathing could be heard.  Several blankets had been placed over him, but his body still shook with chills.

Donna sat watching him.  Her legs were drawn up, feet resting on the edge of the chair, arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting on her knees.  She fought the exhaustion that threatened to overtake her.  She rubbed her burning eyes and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.  She realized she was developing a pretty intense dislike for hospitals; she was spending entirely too much time at the bedside of her boss.

Her eyes slid shut.  She felt tightness in her chest as she fought the tears building in her eyes.  Donna opened her eyes and bit her bottom lip as her gaze drifted to the machines monitoring Josh’s vitals then back to his pale, thin face.  The weight of the situation slammed into her, combining with the pressure of the last two weeks.  Tears spilled down her cheeks.  She couldn’t hold back the sobs, and covered her mouth in an effort to stifle them.  She was startled when an arm wrapped around her shoulders in comfort, and looked up to see Sam by her side.  The sight of tears on the young man’s face broke what little hold Donna had on her composure and she sobbed uncontrollably.  Sam pulled her against him and held her as she cried.

After a while her sobs began to subside; turning into occasional hiccups.  Her shaking shoulders stilling to an occasional shudder.  Donna rested her head against Sam’s side, too exhausted to rise from the chair.  Sam continued to stroke her head and she calmed.

"Thank you."  She whispered.

"You’re welcome."  Sam spoke, his voice barely audible and thick with emotion.  "Come join us in the waiting room.  Leo and Toby arrived a little while ago and Danny’s here.  He’s got information."

Donna turned her attention back to the still form in the bed.  "He shouldn’t wake up alone."

Sam gently rubbed Donna’s back as he spoke.  "I’ll stay."

"I don’t know..."  Donna felt the tears building again.

"Hey," Sam knelt on the floor in front of his friend and gently turned her face toward him.  He tucked stray blond locks behind her ear and wiped away her tears with his thumbs.  "You don’t have to shoulder this all on your own.  Go; be with the others, get something to eat, get some rest.  I’ll stay with Josh.  He won’t be alone."

Donna held Sam’s gaze briefly before looking at Josh again.  "Okay."  She whispered, allowing Sam to pull her to her feet and into an embrace.

"He’s going to pull through this, and I don’t want to have to face him with the news that you’ve worried yourself sick and are in the hospital."

Donna smiled.  "I could say the same to you."

Sam chuckled.  "We make a pair, don’t we?" He walked her to the door and gently pushed her out into the hallway.  After watching her walk down the hall to the room where the others were, Sam returned to the bedside to take up Donna’s vigil.

Waiting Room

  
Toby Ziegler looked up from his notepad as the door opened.  He felt his stomach drop as an intense feeling of déjà vu swept over him.  Donna Moss stood before them, face pale and drawn, and still wet with tears.

"How is he?"  C.J. asked looking up.

"The same."  Donna sank in to the chair between C.J. and Leo.  She realized that if she wasn’t so exhausted she would probably burst into tears again.

"Take a look at this."  Toby handed the young woman the memo.

"Maybe you can help us figure out where this came from."  C.J. watched Donna’s face as she read the memo; an expression of anger replaced the exhaustion and defeat.  "Sam and Toby insist that it is from Steve Joyce, but he was fired before any of the events described here happened."

Leo stood and walking over to Donna, leaned down to kiss her on the top of the head.  She looked up in surprise.  "He’s a tough kid.  He’s been through a lot and he always comes back.  I’ve got to get back to the White House.  Keep me up dated."

The others watched the older man leave while Donna sat in stunned silence.  After a moment she dropped her head and turned her attention back to the paper in her hand.  She re-read it again and again, trying to push aside her anger at Lillienfield and who ever had written the memo and grasp the piece of information that was eluding her.  She furrowed her brow in concentration.  Suddenly her eyes widened with realization and she looked up at the others.

"Kelly Mackenzie!"

"Kelly Mackenzie?"  Toby repeated leaning back in his chair.

"She’s a junior staffer in Josh’s office.  She’s started dating Steve Joyce a few weeks before he was fired."  Donna read the memo again.  "I think they’re still dating."

"So, she goes home and tells her boyfriend about what is going on at work."  C.J. took the paper from Donna to read again.

"Except said boyfriend is a disgruntled former White House employee."  Danny Concannon spoke for the first time since Donna had entered the room.

Donna looked at him in surprise.  "Danny!"

"Hi Donna."  He grinned sheepishly before turning the conversation back to the problem at hand.  "If Sam is the one who fired Joyce, why would he try to destroy Josh?  Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to go after Sam?"

"Maybe he’s trying to get Sam through Josh."

"You’ve been watching too many soap operas, Donna."  Toby quietly scoffed.

"Since when do I have to time to watch soaps?"

"He could be trying to hurt the administration in general.  If I recall correctly, he wasn’t all that helpful when he was working for us."  C.J. interjected, bringing the focus back on topic.

Toby stood and stretched.  "I’m going back to the White House.  I’d have to be at work in a few hours anyway."  He started past Donna but stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder.  "Call me if there are any changes."

She nodded in response and watched him leave.  "You should go, too C.J.  Thank you for everything."

"Are you sure you’ll be all right here?"  C.J. studied Donna’s face, concerned by the clearly evident exhaustion.

Donna managed a small smile.  "Yeah, I’ll try to get some sleep here."  She motioned toward the couch where Danny was sitting.  "Thank you for everything tonight.  I promise I’ll call with any news."  Donna captured C.J.’s hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"If you’re certain...."  C.J. hesitated, but knew that Donna’s response would be the same.  She stood, letting go of the younger woman’s hand and turning toward Danny.  "Come on Bernstein; I need a ride to work."

After the two left Donna moved to stretch out on the couch.  She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

ICU - early morning

Sam Seaborn jerked awake.  Looking at the watch on his left wrist he realized he’d only dozed off for a few moments.  He turned his attention to the hospital bed and sighed in disappointment when he saw there was no change.  Josh was still unconscious.  Sam moved his chair a little closer to the bed and placed his hand on Josh’s forehead.  He wasn’t certain, but it was possible that his fever was down.

"You know, this is actually getting kind of old.  I know you didn’t want to go to that meeting on the hill tomorrow, but there are cheaper ways of getting out of meetings."  Sam sighed again.  "Josh..." his voice broke.  "You’re scaring me, buddy.  Please wake up."

Sam dropped his head and closed his eyes, regaining his composure.  He was startled by the door opening and turned to be greeted by the doctor who had been treating Josh.

The middle aged physician smiled at Sam as he crossed the room to his patient.  "Good morning, Mr. Seaborn."

"Sam."

"Sorry, I forgot."  The doctor responded quietly.

"Any news, Dr. Morgan?"

Dr. Chad Morgan checked the chart and then the patient before turning to answer the question.  "I just got the last of the test results back."

  
Sam caught his breath.  Finally they’d get some answers!

"Josh has developed pneumonia.  In addition to that, he was having a bad reaction to the medications he was given for the initial bronchitis and asthma.  I’ve changed his meds.  His fever has started to come down.  We should see him waking soon.  He’s pretty much out of danger.  When he wakes up he will be extremely weak and it will probably take him a while to start to get his strength back and beat the infection.  Mr. Lyman will definitely be our guest for a while longer; although I can assure you that once he wakes up we should be able to move him out of intensive care."

There was a soft groan from the bed and a muffled, "Josh."

Sam, giddy with relief, grinned at the doctor.  "He doesn’t really like being called Mr. Lyman- claims that title belongs to his father."

"Josh, I’m Dr. Morgan.  It’s good to see you awake."

"Home?"  Josh wheezed, opening his eyes briefly before letting them slide shut, exhausted from the effort.

Dr. Morgan checked Josh’s vitals again as he answered.  "No, and I’m afraid not for a while, Josh.  You’re pretty sick."

Josh’s groan dissolved into coughing that increased in intensity.  Sam looked at Dr. Morgan in alarm as his friend struggled to breathe.

"Help me get him up, Sam."  The doctor elevated the head of the bed slightly before grasping Josh’s shoulders and with Sam’s help pulled him into a sitting position, leaning forward.  He kept one arm supportively around Josh’s shoulders and with the other hand he reached behind him, grabbed a basin from the bedside table and deposited it in Josh’s lap.  He removed the oxygen mask just as Josh expelled a great deal of green mucus from his lungs.  Sam blanched at the sight.

Without missing a beat Dr. Morgan gently laid Josh back against the bed, removed the basin and proceeded to clean Josh up.  He replaced the oxygen mask.  Josh lay still, chest heaving and his breathing audible.  Tears streamed from closed eyes and his features were twisted in pain.

"I know it hurts, Josh, and I won’t lie to you.  This is going to be around for a while.  But we’re going to help you."  Dr. Morgan pressed the call button to summon a nurse and began to make notations in the chart.

Sam stood beside Josh, hands still on his shoulder, watching while Dr. Morgan gave instructions to the nurse.  He didn’t understand all the medical terms and the names of drugs and their doses slipped by him.  His best friend was in agony, and he could do nothing.  He swallowed and looked down at Josh.  He’d fallen asleep despite the pain; his body’s need for rest overriding all else.

Dr. Morgan motioned to Sam and gently moved him out the door, leaving the nurse to finish carrying out his orders.  Once in the hallway Dr. Morgan stopped to address the young man.  "I know that looked bad, and yes he’s in a lot of pain, but he will be alright. He’s going to be sleeping a lot now and there is a long road ahead of him.  I noticed Miss Moss was asleep in the waiting room.  I suggest you wake her, tell her Josh’s condition, then you both go home and get some sleep."

Sam turned to look at the closed door of Josh’s room.  "She’s going to want to see him."

"That’s fine; but only briefly.  I don’t want either of you to become patients here."

Sam gave the doctor a small smile.  "Thank you Dr. Morgan."  The two men shook hands.

"I have no doubt I’ll be seeing a lot of all of you in the coming weeks."

"You can count on it."  Sam turned and headed for the waiting room, feeling just a little more light hearted then he had for several weeks.


	11. Residual Scarring 11

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**GW Hospital**

  
Josh readjusted his oxygen mask.  He shifted uncomfortably in the bed and heaved a sigh which set off a bout of coughing.  He managed to push himself forward, but didn’t have the energy to reach for the basin on the bed stand.  His chest tightened painfully.  He gagged on the phlegm his coughing raised and managed to move the oxygen mask before throwing up.  Exhausted and humiliated, he sagged against the pillows and fumbled feebly for the call button.

The nurse was just finishing cleaning him up when Donna entered the room.  Her smile was a forced one that didn’t reach her eyes.  "Hey!  How are you feeling today?"

"Crappy."  Josh croaked through the oxygen mask.

Donna settled in the visitor’s chair as the nurse checked the I.V.

"You’re all set, Mr. Lyman.  I recommend you use the basin next time, or call for help."  She patted his arm.  Josh responded with a glare.  The nurse smiled back sweetly and left the room.

Josh closed his eyes and settled deeper into the pillows.  He listened to the sounds of the room:  the wheezing of his own breathing, the quiet hiss of the oxygen, the beep of the heart monitor, and the quiet even cadence of Donna’s breathing.  When he opened his eyes and turned his head, he found her closely studying him.  He met her gaze and tried to read her eyes.

"How are you doing?"  His voice sounded hoarse and muffled.

Donna continued to regard him silently for a few minutes before answering.  "Relieved.  Tired."

Josh frowned, his eyes communicating the question he didn’t have the breath to voice.

Donna looked away, tears welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.  When Josh reached out for her, she moved to sit on the bed next to him.  He reached up and wiped away her tears, his fingers lingering on her cheek.  After several minutes she met his gaze.

"I was afraid of loosing you."  She caught her breath.  "Not just physically."  She dropped her gaze again.  "I want this whole mess to be done with."

"I’m sorry.  I’m sorry that you have to go through this."  Josh’s breath caught, causing him to begin coughing again.

 Donna helped him sit forward.  He removed the oxygen mask with a shaky hand as she held the basin for him.  When the coughing subsided Josh collapse against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain.  Donna put the soiled basin aside and began to gently rub his chest.

"God, it hurts, Donna."  He gasped.

"I know, I know."  She tried to comfort him.

West Wing of the White House

It was late morning when Donna made her way past security.  As she entered the West Wing she met Toby, C.J., and Sam returning from a meeting in the Oval Office.  Sam broke into a grin as he greeted her, his smile chasing away the exhaustion and concern that had been lining his face.

"How’s Josh this morning?"

Donna fell into step with him, just ahead of Toby and C.J.  "He’s slowly improving.  His temperature is almost down to normal.  He’s in a lot of pain and still coughing up a lot of gunk."

Sam grimaced at the memory of the day before, when Josh first awoke.

"Yeah," Donna made a face.  "It’s pretty gross.  I talked with his doctor this morning.  He said the scarring from the shooting and the surgery is making Josh more susceptible to fluid in his lungs.  It’s going to take a while for him to get over this; looks like he’ll be in the hospital for a while."

"How’d Josh take that news?"  C.J. asked as the four arrived in the Communications bullpen.

"He’s pretty sick. They have him on pain meds in addition to the antibiotics.  He’s sleeping a lot and even when he’s awake he’s pretty out of it."

"We were going to go by and see him this afternoon."  C.J. leaned against a door frame.

"You should still go."

"Oh, I plan to.  I love messing with his head when he’s drugged up."  C.J. grinned wickedly.

"You are an evil woman, C.J.; evil."

"You can’t deny me a little fun, Spanky."

Sam paled at C.J.’s nickname for him; her use of which never bode well for him.  "Look, I just remembered I’ve got that thing..."  Sam motioned over his shoulder with his thumb.

C.J. and Donna chuckled as Sam made a hasty retreat to his office.

West Wing- Office of Press Secretary

Toby Ziegler shifted uncomfortably on the couch, crossing his legs and repositioning his notepad on his lap.  He heaved a sigh and looked up at C.J.

 C.J leaned back in her chair and regarded the Communications Director.  The man was fidgety, a sure sign he was about to say something hard.

"We should make an announcement about his health."

"We will.  We’ve given updates all along.  Only you’re not talking about his physical health.  You want to announce to the press core that Lillienfield is right and that Josh Lyman is mentally unstable.  You’re a real pal there Tobias."

"I was thinking of something a little more eloquent.  We pre-empt Lillienfield.  We control it.  We minimize the damage to Josh and to this administration.  It passes quickly and becomes a non-issue."

"Are you insane?  Something like this doesn’t blow over for some one in Josh’s position.  This is going to destroy his political career.  To be honest, I don’t know if he’s strong enough to handle the stress that it would cause."

"Look at the big picture, C.J.  Josh has PTSD as a result of being shot while in service to the President of the United States.  Right now he is in the hospital with pneumonia, a condition exacerbated by having been shot.  We present all the facts.  Sympathy for Josh will over-ride the political damage.  It will work to his advantage."

C.J. stared at him in disbelief.  "Toby!"

"Think about it.  What’s the alternative?"

"Lillienfield holds a press conference and Josh is destroyed politically as well as emotionally."  C.J. paused, mulling over Toby’s proposal.  "How can you be sure our announcing it won’t have the same effect?  I’m not so sure that I want to be the one responsible for ending a brilliant political career and hurting one of my best friends."

"We can control it; keep the damage to a minimum."

"I’m not convinced we can."  C.J. held Toby’s gaze until he dropped his eyes.

He stood, clutching his notepad tightly in his hand, and hovered in the doorway for a moment.  "I want to take this to Leo."

"You’d better talk to Sam and Donna first, although I’m pretty certain I know what their opinion will be."

"Yeah."  Toby answered softly.  He looked up at C.J., who was startled to see agony mixed with anger smoldering in the dark eyes.  "I want to get Lillienfield.  I want to make him pay.  And I want to save Josh."  He then turned on his heal and exited the office.  C.J. remained still for a long time, staring at the empty doorway.

West Wing- Office of Deputy Communications Director

Sam looked up from his computer to see his boss hovering in the doorway to his office.  He pulled off his glasses and leaned back in his chair.  "I don’t have the speech done.  In fact, I just started it and I have another week before it needs to be completed."

Toby hesitated briefly before stepping in to the office and closing the door behind him.  He lowered himself into a chair across from his deputy.  He crossed his legs then tapped his notepad against his knee several times before speaking.  "I think C.J. should make an announcement about Josh’s illness.  We should pre-empt any announcement Lillienfield might make."

He looked up to see Sam staring at him, mouth slightly open in disbelief.  "You can’t be serious."

"We’ve been spending all this energy trying to stay a step ahead, trying to keep them from showing their hand.  Why not just rip the cards away from them and layout their hand for all the world to see?"

"You want to play poker with them?"

"Sam..."

"This is Josh we’re talking about!"  Sam dropped his glasses onto his desk and shook his head.  "I can’t believe you’re even suggesting this."

"It worked with the MS."

Sam clenched his teeth.  "Did it?"

"Sam..."

"No, Toby.  We may not even survive this thing and you want to add more?"

"I think it will work."

"Have you talked to anyone else about this?" 

"Yeah, C.J., and her response was remarkably similar." 

Sam gave a cynical chuckle.  "I’ll bet."

"I want this to go away as much as the rest of you.  But it’s not going to.  We have to deal with it."

"And now is the time to do it?  We’re still recovering from the loss of Mrs. Landingham, the President has announced he’s running for re-election, we’re facing a Congressional investigation, and you want to play poker with Lillienfield?"

Toby held Sam’s gaze, but didn’t respond.  Their staring contest was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

The door opened to reveal Donna with a stack of files.  "Sorry to interrupt, guys.  Here are those files of Josh’s that you needed."  She crossed the room, aware of the tension, and handed the stack to Sam.

"Thanks.  Hey Donna."  Sam held his boss’s gaze while he spoke.  "Toby thinks we should announce Josh’s PTSD."

"Excuse me?"  Donna looked from Sam to Toby in confusion.

"We should pre-empt Lillienfield; hold our own press conference.  We educate the public and capitalize on their sympathy."  Toby finally dropped his gaze.

"How dare you?"  Donna exploded, fighting to control her anger.  "Don’t you realize what this will do to Josh?  It would destroy him!"

"He’s strong.  Why should he have to hide from this?  Why should he have to apologize?  He was shot because he works for the President.  He was traumatized while in the service of his country.  How many sympathy cards did you answer last year?  How many has he received since C.J. first announced he was back in the hospital?"

Donna shook her head.  "It would destroy Josh."  Her eyes flashed in anger, challenging Toby to continue his argument. "You can’t do this to him."

Toby once more dropped his gaze.  "I really think it will work."  He mumbled, standing his ground.

"And if it doesn’t?"  Sam’s question hung in the air for a moment before he spoke again.  "Are we ready to pay the cost?"

Toby looked up to meet two pairs of angry, blue eyes and shifted uneasily under their intensity.


	12. Residual Scarring 12

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**West Wing- Office of Chief of Staff**

Toby shifted his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable in the silence.  He glanced to his left were C.J. sat on Leo’s couch, arms crossed, mouth set in a grim line.  He then looked to his right to were Sam stood by a chair, hands on his hips; his face set much like C.J.’s.  Toby heaved a sigh and looked up when Leo spoke.

"And what do you two think about this?"

C.J. and Sam exchanged a look then Sam spoke.  "It’s a monumentally bad idea."

"Josh is going to get creamed."

Leo looked each of his staffers in the eye before speaking.  "What does Josh think?"

"We haven’t talk to him yet."

"But you are going to.  After all this is his life we’re talking about here."

"Yeah."  Toby responded, keeping his gaze on the rug.  "I’m going to go see him at lunch time."

"Go easy on him."

"Yeah."

"Anything else?"  Leo again studied the faces of his staff.  When he got no further response he spoke again.  "Good.  Go do a job."  Leo turned his attention to the numerous papers on his desk as the Senior Staff filed out.

GW Hospital

Toby stopped just inside the hospital room door.  Josh appeared to be asleep and Toby reached behind him for the door handle.  He was about to leave when Josh opened his eyes and gave him a weak smile.  He moved awkwardly across the room and stood nervously at the bedside.

"Hey!"  Josh’s voice was still muffled by the ever present oxygen mask yet sounded a little stronger then the last time Toby had seen him.

"Hi."  Toby replied softly.

"I’m dying to know what’s going on at the office.  Donna won’t tell me."  Josh wheezed.  "She insists I need to rest and that I won’t be able to if I’m getting stressed out about work."

Toby allowed himself a small smile, remembering how stringent Donna was about ‘The Rules’ while Josh was recovering from the shooting.  "She’s right."

"Toby."  Josh whined.  "Come on be a pal.  I promise I won’t get worked up.  Did we get the votes for 582?  We were so close."

The Communications Director shifted uneasily at Josh’s words; his conversations with the others playing in his mind.  He lifted his gaze from the floor to his friend.  Despite the younger man’s exhaustion and wheezing breaths, he was practically bouncing in the bed.  The brief glimpse of what could be called ‘the old Josh’ brought a smile to Toby’s face.

"Yeah.  Leo took the rest of the meetings.  The bill is going to pass easily."

Josh sank back against the pillows, his energy spent. He smiled a full dimpled smile that lit up his tired features.  "Good."

Toby’s stomach dropped knowing what he had to do and anticipating Josh’s reaction.  He dropped his gaze, looking everywhere but at Josh.  When he looked up he found Josh studying him with a quizzical expression and self-consciously dropped his gaze again.

"What’s going on, Toby? Did Sam accidentally sleep with a call girl again?"  There was just a hint of a smirk on Josh’s face.

"He’s never going to live that down."

"Not likely."  Josh’s chuckle dissolved into coughing.  When he regained his breath he turned serious.  "What aren’t you telling me?"

Toby shuffled his feet, looking around the room, then back to Josh.  "I want C.J. to announce your PTSD."

There was a stunned silence as the men stared at each other.  Then Josh spoke, "I’m sorry, could you repeat that?  ‘Cause it sounded like you just said you wanted to help me commit political suicide!"  Josh’s voice began to rise in anger.

"We don’t know how long Lillienfield will sit on this.  If we pre-empt him, we can control it." Toby slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet.  His gaze was locked on the side of the hospital bed.

"This isn’t something they let you have and work for the President."  Josh’s breath was coming in short gasps.  He shifted uncomfortably in the bed, his chest tightening as his agitation increased.  "Toby, you can’t!  Where do you get off even thinking that?"

"Josh, calm down."

"The hell!  This is ridiculous!"  Josh yelled.  He began coughing and gasping, his face loosing all color.

Becoming panicked, Toby put a hand on Josh’s shoulder.  "You need to settle down."

"Don’t touch me..."  Josh snapped as he clutched his chest and struggled to breathe.  Toby reached across him to press the call button.

A nurse stepped into the room, the smile immediately leaving her face when she saw Josh’s distress.  She stuck her head out the door to yell for a doctor then rushed to the bedside.  Toby stood by the bed, not knowing what to do.  The door burst open as a doctor and a nurse ran into the room, Donna trailing behind them.  The doctor and nurses hurriedly began to treat Josh.

Josh was hunched over coughing and gasping.  His pale face was beginning to take on a bluish-grey cast as he struggled to breath.  Donna turned to Toby, horrified.  "What happened?"

He dropped his gaze.

As realization hit, Donna’s eyes narrowed in anger.  "Get. Out."  She spoke through clenched teeth and barely controlled rage.

Without a word Toby Ziegler turned and walked out of the room.

White House- Oval Office

Josiah Bartlet scanned the papers in front of him.  "We’re going to go ahead with the federal aid to Grand Isle, Louisiana."

"Yeah."

"And Sam will meet with Jacobson about the environmental bill?"

"Yeah."

Bartlet looked over the top of his glasses at his Chief of Staff.  "Now I remember why you’re not my speech writer."

Leo McGarry frowned at the President.  "There is probably going to be a thing."

The President removed his glasses and placed them on top of the papers he’d been reading, leaning back in his chair.  "Do I want to know about this?"

"Lillienfield, for some inexplicable reason, is still sitting on what he knows about Josh’s trouble at Christmas."

"You think he’s going to announce something soon."

"Toby wants to head him off with an announcement of our own."

Bartlet took a moment to absorb Leo’s words.  When he spoke his voice was filled with concern and disbelief.  "He wants to announce that Josh has Post Traumatic Stress?  That’s an incredible risk, politically and emotionally.  What does Josh think?"

"Toby is going to talk with him this afternoon.  Toby’s pretty sure about this; the others not so much."

Bartlet slowly shook his head.  "Seems like it only gets harder.  Keep me updated."

"Yes, Sir."

"Anything else?"

"No, Sir."

"Okay."

"Thank you, Mr. President."  Leo stood and walked through the door to his office, feeling a hundred years old.

West Wing- Communications

"Any messages?"  Toby asked Ginger as he strode into the Communications Bullpen.  His assistant handed him a stack of pink message slips and turned back to her typing.  He leafed through the messages, trying to keep his mind off Josh’s distress and Donna’s anger.  He sank into his chair, rubbing a hand over his bald head.

"Hey."  C.J. Cregg appeared in the doorway.  She leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed, and studied her friend.

Toby looked up to meet concerned eyes.  He sighed and sagged back in his chair.

She stepped into the room and settled on the couch.  "Did you talk to Josh?"

"Yeah."  Toby looked up to see Sam Seaborn standing in the doorway, looking shell shocked.  "Sam?"

"Donna just called."  He looked back and forth between C.J. and Toby with a puzzled expression on his face as he tried to process the information he was delivering.  "Josh is back in ICU."


	13. Residual Scarring 13

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**GW HOSPITAL**

Toby lowered himself into the chair at Josh’s bedside.  Propping his elbows on the armrest he pressed his finger tips together, steepling his fingers.  He sat quietly watching Josh sleep, listening to his labored breathing and the quiet hiss of the oxygen.

After a day and a half in intensive care Josh had just been moved back into a regular room.  Donna was furious with Toby, blaming him for Josh’s setback.  She had reinstated ‘The Rules’, forbidding him to even step foot in the hospital.  If she knew he was there life as he knew it would probably end.  The only risk of being discovered was if Sam got out of his meeting early and stopped by to check on their colleague.  Donna was at lunch with Bonnie and Ginger; a plan with which Toby was feeling particularly pleased.

He rubbed his hands on his pant legs.  This wasn’t going to be easy.  The last time he brought this up he’d put Josh in intensive care.  The others were still angry with him and when they found out he was ignoring the rules, Donna would probably have plenty help killing him.

Josh opened his eyes with great effort.  He turned his head to look at Toby before his eyes slid shut again.

"Josh."  Toby spoke tentatively.

"What are you doing here?"

"I’m sorry."

Josh’s only response was a barely perceivable nod of his head.

"Donna is going to kill me when she finds out I’m here.  I’ve been banned from the hospital."

"The Rules."

"Yeah.  I’m not very popular right now."

"You put me in the ICU."

"Yeah, I’m sorry about that."

"I know."  Josh forced open his eyes and held Toby’s gaze for a few moments.  The look communicated more than either of them could have with words.  His eyes slid shut again and Toby let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

"It’s going to be hard, and it is risky, but I think it’s the best way to deal with this."

"What if you’re wrong?"

"Let Sam and I write your statement."  He ignored Josh’s question, not wanting to think about what might happen.  "C.J. will read the statement and take questions.  We’ll limit it, we’ll protect you.  When you’re stronger you can do an interview with one of the major networks."

Josh didn’t respond, but lay still with his eyes closed.  Toby thought perhaps he’d fallen asleep and hadn’t heard him.  After a moment Josh opened his eyes again and focused on Toby.  He studied his face until the frumpy speech writer became uncomfortable.  Josh continued to hold Toby’s gaze when he spoke softly.  "You’re sure."

"Yeah."

Josh sank back exhausted.  He allowed his eyes to close but fought sleep.  "Okay.  You’ve already started writing it anyway."  A small smile played across his lips.

Toby sat in stunned silence before chuckling and breaking into a grin.

Josh laughed with him until coughing stole his breath.  Just as Toby was about to call for a nurse Josh held up a shaky hand, coughed a few more times, then leaned back, working to bring his breathing back under control.  He reached for the cup of water on the bedside stand.  Toby handed it to him and watched with concern filled eyes.

"Just make sure I get to see the statement first.  And don’t worry, I won’t tell Donna you were here."

Toby smiled.  "She’ll find out anyway.  I think the fact that you have agreed with me and our talk didn’t end with you back in ICU will go a long way to put me back into everyone’s good graces."  Toby could tell that despite Josh’s smile, the younger man was loosing the battle against sleep.  He looked at his watch.  "Anyway, I’ve got to get back.  We’ll be by later to see you."

Josh nodded and mumbled something unintelligible.  Toby pushed himself to his feet.  Josh had already succumbed to sleep.  He patted his shoulder gently.  "Get better soon, my friend.  We need you."  Giving the shoulder a gentle squeeze, Toby quietly left the room.  He headed down the hallway.  That had been surprisingly easy.  However, he still dreaded having to face the others and hoped he’d live to finish writing Josh’s statement.

West Wing- Communications-Later that afternoon

Toby Ziegler’s office was not a friendly place to be at the moment.  The tension was radiating out into the bullpen.  Ginger and Bonnie were running interference, or rather damage control, answering phones and keeping everyone away from the closed door.  It was quiet now, a reprieve from the yelling that had been coming from the room just moments before.

Inside the office Toby sat behind his desk, face set in determination.  Standing in front of him, forming a line of attack, were Sam, C.J., and Donna.  Sam’s hands were on his hips, his face set, and in his eyes a passion the likes of which Toby hadn’t seen in his deputy for a long time.  C.J.’s eyes flashed with her anger, a look that Toby always tried to avoid.  Donna Moss stood with arms crossed, foot taping impatiently, and anger written all over her face.  He held back a sigh and braced himself for the next barrage.

"You blatantly ignored the rules."  Donna’s voice was like ice.

"He agrees with me."

"You took advantage of his weakened and drugged state."  C.J. snapped.

"Really, C.J., how often have any of us been successful in convincing Josh to do anything he really doesn’t want to do?"

"That’s beside the point."

"Trust me."  All three gave him withering looks and he finally let out a sigh.  "Trust Josh."

C.J. relaxed slightly.  She pointed a slender finger at Toby.  "If this goes bad it’s your head.  We’re all holding you responsible."

Toby finally dropped his eyes, relieved the confrontation was nearly over.  "Yeah."  He acknowledged.

"Donna, would you help me prepare for this thing."

Donna gave Toby one last icy glare before turning on her heal and stalking out of the office.  C.J. turned to follow the young blond.  "Your head, Tobias!"  She called over her shoulder.

Toby looked up to see his deputy standing in the same position he’d been in since the confrontation had started. "Look Sam, I know you’re not excited about this, and I’m more then willing to write the statement on my own; but you’re his best friend, and you’re a gifted writer.  I’d rather have your help."

Sam stared at Toby in surprise.  "You just complimented me!"

"Yeah."  Toby looked down.

"I don’t know what to say."

Toby looked up.  "Not a good admission for a speech writer."

"Toby, thank you."

"Are you going to help me?"

Sam frowned at the reminder of what started the conversation.  "I still don’t agree, but yeah."

Toby motioned for Sam to sit on the couch.  "Let’s get started."

GW Hospital

Josh startled awake.  He lay back against the pillows, his heart pounding, breath coming in short gasps, and body shaking.  He closed his eyes, willing away the lingering images from his nightmare and putting shaky hands over his face.  ‘Oh, to sleep uninterrupted,’ he thought in frustration.  "I suppose I should look on the bright side."  He spoke aloud to the empty room.  "That wasn’t a bad one."

He started to push himself up but fell back as the semi-dark room spun dizzily.  In frustration Josh hit the bed.  He couldn’t even get up and pace or wander; his usual practice following a nightmare.  He knew that forgetting the images from his dream and falling asleep was unlikely to happen.  Heaving a sigh in anticipation of the long night ahead of him, Josh stared at the ceiling.

It was barely 7 A.M. when Donna entered the room and sank into the visitor’s chair.  "Toby and Sam are working on a statement."  She told Josh as she shifted in the chair.

He nodded.  He was pale and drawn, he’d lost weight over the last few weeks and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Bad night?"

Josh nodded again.

"You don’t have to do this, you know."  She blurted.

"Donna," Josh wheezed.  "We’ve had this discussion last night.  Toby’s right..." he coughed several times and grimaced in pain.  His voice was even softer when he continued.  "This is the best way to deal with this."

"So Toby keeps saying."

"Donna, I’m tired.  I don’t want to argue."

"Aren’t you scared of what might happen?"

Josh tried to hold back a cough, again grimacing at the pain in his chest.  "I trust Toby."  He whispered when the coughs subsided.

"This could end your career."

"I know.  It’s a risk I have to take."

Donna sighed and frowned.  "The lesser of two evils."

"Yeah."  Josh’s voice was barely audible.

"I’m scared."  Donna admitted as she reached for Josh’s hand.

"I know.  Trust Toby.  Trust me."  His voice faded.

There was a knock at the door and the two looked up as Sam entered.  The young speech writer nervously cleared his throat.  "We’ve finished."  He held out a single sheet of paper toward his best friend.

After several false starts Josh managed to croak out, "Read it to me."

Sam cleared his throat again before starting to read.  "Most of you are aware that Joshua Lyman is no stranger to tragedy.  As a young boy he survived a house fire that claimed the life of his older sister.  During Josiah Bartlet’s Presidential campaign he mourned the loss of his father, and a year ago we all waited as Josh fought for his life after being shot by white supremacists while in service to the President."

Josh closed his eyes as he listened to Sam’s voice, pushing back the doubts and fears that threatened to overwhelm him.  ‘Trust Toby’ his own words echoed in his head as he listened to the statement being read.  He easily recognized the unique and talented styles of Toby Ziegler and Sam Seaborn.  He felt a rush of pride and love at the realization of what these men were doing for him.  Donna squeezed his hand, a gesture he weakly returned.  He realized Sam had stopped reading.  He opened his eyes to find two pairs of blue eyes regarding him closely.  Josh locked his gaze with Sam and gave his friend a weak smile.  "It’s good Sam.  Don’t change a word."  His voice rasped when he spoke.  "Thank you."

Sam rested a hand on Josh’s shoulder and managed a smile.  "I’m sorry it has to be like this."

Josh shrugged and was about to reply when Toby rushed into the room.  "Lillienfield has called a press conference for this morning."  He announced without preamble.

Donna gasped in surprise, Sam tightened his grip on Josh’s shoulder; none of them spoke.

"We need to move fast.  Is the statement ready?"  Toby looked at Josh.  The younger man seemed even paler, if that was possible, and Toby shuddered.

"Yeah."  Josh said with a nod.  "It’s ready."

"Let’s go prep C.J."  Toby spoke gruffly to his deputy.  Sam gave Josh’s shoulder another squeeze before heading out the door.  Toby crossed the room and clasped Josh’s hand.  "We’ll get you through this."

Josh nodded.  "I know."

Toby squeezed his hand before releasing it.  He turned to leave and met Donna’s gaze.  Her conflicting emotions evident on her face; fear of the unknown, concern for Josh, anger at Toby, and a desire to trust him.  She held his gaze, searching his face.  Finally trust won out.  Donna rose and Toby drew her into an embrace.

"Forgive me."  She spoke into his shoulder.

"I already did."

"Thank you."

Toby released her.  "I need to go."  He gave them both what he hoped was a reassuring smile and headed back to the White House.

CAPITOL HILL- OFFICE OF SENATOR LILLIENFIELD

Peter Lillienfield sat at his desk looking over his notes for his upcoming press conference.  He smiled to himself as he thought about what was about to happen.  He knew waiting this long was risky; it gave the White House the opportunity to launch a counter attack.  Lillienfield shook off the slight fear.  They didn’t know anything.  They couldn’t know what he knew; otherwise he’d have heard something from someone in Bartlet’s camp.  Seaborn or even McGarry would have been after him.  But there had been nothing and he felt his confidence grow.  This was going to be worth the wait.

"Sir, you need to see this, now."  Paul Specht, his chief of staff, rushed into the office out of breath.

"What?"  The Senator stacked his papers together as he rose from his seat and started around his desk.

"The White House press briefing."  Paul ducked out of the office.

Lillienfield felt his stomach drop as he followed his COS to the outer office.  The usual bustle of the senate office had stilled as all his staffers stood, fixated on the T.V.  On the screen was pictured C.J. Cregg, White House Press Secretary, back dropped by the traditional dark blue curtain and White House Seal.  "Turn it up."  Lillienfield ordered and he felt his anger rise as he listen to the words obviously crafted by Ziegler and Seaborn.

"...and Josh has the full support of his friends and this administration as he continues to recover.  I will now take your questions."

Lillienfield fought to control his anger as C.J. called on reporters and answered questions.  They had found out and they had beaten him to the punch; stolen his thunder.

"Steve."

"C.J. does the White House have a response to comments made by Senator Peter Lillienfield regarding Josh’s mental state and fitness for office?"

Lillienfield’s head snapped up and he turned his attention to the T.V.  The tension in the room was palatable and several staffers stole glances at the Senator out of the corners of their eyes.

"As I said before, Josh has the support of the President as he recovers from his injuries.  His response to the trauma suffered at Rosslyn is not uncommon.  You will find in your press packet information regarding Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as well as the websites for the Nation Center for PTSD and the American Trauma Victims Association.  Josh Lyman is a world class political mind.  His devotion to his job is unquestionable and we eagerly await his full recovery.  Any allegations to the contrary are petty attempts to destroy a good man and we will not stoop to that level."

The slamming of Peter Lillienfield’s door reverberated through the silent outer office.


	14. Residual Scarring 14

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

CAPITOL HILL

"Sir, what are you going to do?"  Paul awkwardly stood before the Congressman.  Lillienfield set his jaw and leveled his gaze on his Chief of Staff.

"I’m going to finish what I started.  I’m going to bring down Josh Lyman."

GW HOSPITAL

"Hey!"  Josh exclaimed as Donna clicked off the television.  He reached for the remote control, which she easily kept out of reach.

"You need to rest.  You’re going to end up back in intensive care AGAIN."

"Donna!"  His whine dissolved as his voice gave out.  He gratefully accepted a cup from Donna and gingerly sipped the cool water.

"We watched C.J.’s briefing; it went well.  The press were more concerned with your well being then sending your career down in flames.  Toby was right."

Josh handed the cup back to Donna, shaking his head.  "It’s just beginning."  His voice caught in his throat and he began coughing.

As the coughing intensified Donna helped him sit up and remove the oxygen mask.  She placed a basin in his lap and moments later he was spitting mucus into the container.  He pressed a hand against his aching chest, lying down and curling up on his side as he tried to control his breathing and stop the coughing.  The fit finally passed, leaving him out of breath, and in pain.  Donna shifted on the bed next to him, gently rubbing his back and looking at him in concern.

"You need to rest, Josh."  Her voice was soft with just a hint of the defeat she was feeling.

WEST WING- COMMUNICATIONS

C.J. Cregg dropped into her chair and propped her head with one hand, allowing herself a few moments of exhaustion and pity.  A knock on the office door ended her private moment and she quickly reached for the files on her desk, recomposing herself before looking up to see Toby and Sam standing in the doorway.

She granted them a smile.  "Gentlemen, well done."

"And well executed."  Sam replied as he dropped onto her couch.  "Our fears were unfounded.  Once again, Toby was right."

"Don’t get too confident there, Opie, it’s just beginning."

"Still, the response this morning is a good indicator.  Wait.  Opie?"

"What the hell?"  Toby exclaimed

C.J. and Sam looked at him in confusion and then followed his gaze to the TV sets in the bookcase.  C.J. fumbled with the papers on her desk, pushing aside several files to unearth a remote control and turn up the volume.

"This underlines the point I’ve been making about the incompetence of this administration."  Peter Lillienfield spoke from behind a bank of microphones in front of the Capitol building.

The three Senior Staffers watched the TV screen in disbelief as Lillienfield rambled on.

"Josh Lyman, by the admission of the White House, is suffering from a serious psychological disease.  A high level presidential advisor and influential policy maker who suffers from panic attacks.  I ask you, is this a person you want anywhere near the President of the United States?"

Sam felt his anger build as he listened to Lillienfield.  He jumped up from the couch and began pacing the room.  "What the hell does it take to shut this guy up?  We’ve got to respond!"

"No." C.J. kept her attention on the broadcast.

"What?!" Sam exploded, wheeling around to face the Press Secretary.

"Sam, we’re not going to go tit for tat with this schmuck."  Toby’s voice remained soft.

"He’s crucifying Josh!"  Sam whirled away from C.J. and Toby, slamming his hand into the door.  All three froze as images of Josh’s bandaged hand and boarded up window flashed into their heads.  Sam closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against the door, and held his hand gingerly against his heaving chest as pain began to throb through the appendage.

"Feel better there, Spanky?"  C.J. asked after a moment.

Sam slowly shook his head.  "I think I broke my hand."

OFFICE OF CONGRESSMAN PETER LILLIENFIELD

Peter Lillienfield greeted Congressman Gibson at the door.  "Darren!  Good to see you." He turned to his secretary, "Melanie, hold my calls please, and could you get the Congressman a drink?"

"Club soda."  Gibson instructed the woman, who nodded and went to get the requested beverage.

Lillienfield ushered Gibson into his office and offered him a seat.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Peter." Gibson said as he and Lillienfield sat opposite each other.

There was a knock on the door and Melanie entered with drinks for the two men.  After serving them and receiving ‘thank you’s’ from the men, she quickly left the room.

"Not a problem, Darren.  I’m always happy to take time for you.  We have many common goals and I’m confident we can accomplish a great deal together."

"Yes, this is why I’ve come to you.  I want you to lay off Josh Lyman."

Lillienfield carefully schooled his features to hide his surprise and anger.  "You want me to lay off Josh Lyman."  He repeated and then waited for Gibson to explain himself.

"You’re going to embarrass yourself and the party.  Bartlet’s staff weakened your attack by announcing Lyman’s problems and controlled the news cycle.  And your timing is bad.  Lyman is in the hospital with pneumonia and people are sympathetic.  He became a favorite because of what happened at Rosslyn and the fact that he is still recovering is causing sympathy, not out rage."

Lillienfield held Gibson’s gaze, controlling his emotions and processing what Gibson had said.  "So we cut our losses?"

"No.  We concede a small battle in order to win the war."  Gibson took a sip of his drink, the clink of the ice cubes reminding him of another time and place; of a stronger drink and another man’s moment of weakness.  A small smile played across his lips.  "You don’t have what you need to bring Lyman down with this.  They are facing a congressional investigation of the M.S. cover- up.  Josh Lyman was a senior political advisor.  He knew things.  Leo McGarry knew things," He paused, "I know things."

Lillienfield thought for a moment.  When he spoke, there was a devious gleam in his eye, matching the gleam in Gibson’s eye.  "What do you recommend my next move be?"

"Issue an apology and fade into the background.  Be patient.  I think you’ll be pleased with the outcome."

The two men stood and shook hands.  "Congressman, I want to thank you for bringing this important matter to my attention and advising me."

Gibson smiled a tight lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  "You’re welcome.  Remember; be patient.  If all goes according to plan, you will be very pleased.  I have this taken care of."

Lillienfield nodded and walked Gibson to the door.  After bidding the man farewell, he turned to his Chief of Staff.  "Paul," He spoke softly. "I’m going to issue an apology to Josh Lyman and wish him a speedy recovery."

"Sir?"  Paul furrowed his brow in confusion.

"And then I’m going to drop this matter."

"Y...yes, Sir."  He stammered, trying to comprehend this sudden change.  Lillienfield looked at his Chief of Staff expectantly.  Paul scrambled to get his wits about him.  He knew his boss was waiting for him to give a usable statement.  "Congressman Lillienfield deeply regrets any additional suffering Mr. Lyman has experienced and wishes him a quick and full recovery."

"Good.  Take care of it."

"Yes Sir."

Lillienfield closed his office door behind him, leaving a very confused Paul still standing at his desk.

GW HOSPITAL

Sam Seaborn slipped quietly into Josh’s hospital room, easing the door shut behind him.  He stood for a moment, watching his best friend sleep.  He adjusted his sling, uncomfortable with the hard cast that encased three fingers and his entire right hand and wrist.  He crossed the room and gingerly sat in the visitor’s chair by the bed.

Josh slowly opened his eyes and gave Sam a sleepy smile.  "Hey."  He closed his eyes and rubbed them before dropping his arms to lie across his stomach.  He stretched his neck a little, rolling his head on the pillow.

"I didn’t mean to wake you."

"It’s okay.  Seems like all I do anymore is sleep."  Josh rasped.  He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at his friend.  His eye brows shot up when he saw Sam’s sling and cast.  "Toby finally get feed up with your writing?"

"Lillienfield held his press conference."  The young speech writer looked down at the floor in embarrassment.

"Sam, as much as I think he deserves it... please don’t tell me you beat the crap out of a congressman."

Sam shook his head.  "C.J.’s office door."

"At least I chose something that gave with the force."

Sam’s head snapped up, a horrified look on his face.  "Not funny, Josh."

Josh closed his eyes and winced.  "Sorry."  His voice was barely as loud as a whisper.

There was an uncomfortable silence for several minutes.

"Donna wouldn’t let me keep the T.V. on."  Josh finally spoke.

"I’m glad you didn’t see it."  Sam shook his head, slumping in the chair and adjusting his sling.

"It was bad?"

"That man continues to astound me with his ability to outdo himself in the horse’s ass department."

"Sam..."

"Lillienfield is a windbag.  He’s just blowing hot air.  He’s..."

"Don’t you dare say harmless.  Don’t you realize how much more damage he can do by continuing to shoot his mouth off?"

"Josh, he’s loosing all credibility.  C.J. and Toby are right.  We just have to wait this out."

"Easy for you to say; it’s not your career."  Josh huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and coughing a few times.

"Josh..."

The uncomfortable silence descended again, broken only by Josh’s coughing.  Sam fiddled with his sling and cast.

After several minutes Josh looked up, uncertainty reflecting in his brown eyes.  He studied his friend for a minute before speaking.  "C.J.’s office door?"

"Yeah."  Sam looked up with a sheepish grin.

"Does it hurt?"

"Like hell, but the doctor gave me some pain killers."

"How long is Cathy going to have to take dictation and do your typing?"  Josh asked with a smirk.

Sam chuckled.  "Several weeks."

"Can I sign it?"  Josh’s face lit up like a little boy’s at Christmas.

"Got a marker?"  Sam laughed. 

Josh shook his head.  "I bet you could get one from the nurse’s station, though."

"I’ll be right back."  Sam stood and disappeared out the door.

As the door closed Josh pushed himself up and looked around for the remote control to the T.V.  He spied it on the table, out of reach.  He pulled off the oxygen mask and gingerly, mindful of the I.V., climbed out of bed and retrieved the remote.  When he settled back against his pillows he was out of breath.  "Can’t even get out of the damn bed..." he grumbled and placed the oxygen mask back over his face.  As he fought to control his breathing and suppress the coughs he flipped on the T.V.

He gasped as the picture came up.  A small picture over the news anchor’s left shoulder showed a picture of Congressman Peter Lillienfield. The anchor was in the middle of a report and Josh hastily turned up the volume.  "Congressman Peter Lillienfield issued an apology..."  The picture switched to video of Paul Specht, Chief of Staff to Lillienfield, standing at a podium.

"SAM! SAM!"  Josh yelled before breaking down coughing.

Sam came bursting through the door with a nurse on his heals.  Josh was sitting up in the bed, pressing one hand against his aching chest while he coughed and gasped for breath, and pointing at the T.V. with his other.

The two men watched the news piece in awe while the nurse tried to tend to Josh’s medical needs.  She replaced the oxygen mask with a nebulizer mask and Josh finally allowed her to push him back against the pillows when the reporter finished.

Josh and Sam looked at each other, wide eyed.  "Well," Josh wheezed "it looks like you need to revise your assessment of Lillienfield’s horse’s ass status."  Sam continued to stare at him in disbelief.  "Did you get the marker?"


	15. Residual Scarring 15

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

**GEORGETOWN- JOSH LYMAN’S APARTMENT**

MONDAY EVENING 7 P.M.

Josh stretched out to his full length, relishing the freedom of movement afforded by the absence of the tangle of I.V. lines, oxygen tubes and monitor wires.  The familiar comfort of his own mattress supported his tired body.  He cautiously pulled a deep breath, filling his aching lungs before slowly releasing the air and ending with coughing.  The familiar scents of his home comforted him and he allowed his mind to wander.  Sleep slowly descended upon him, his peaceful slumber jarred awake by the simultaneous pounding on his door and ringing of his doorbell.

His first thought was that Donna would answer the door and chastise the violator for interrupting his much needed rest. As he gained more coherency, he remembered he had sent a protesting Donna home less than an hour ago.  He groaned, pushed himself up and padded on bare feet across the floor.  He opened the door to reveal a worried Leo.  Josh sagged against the door yawning. He was frustrated at how the short trek across his apartment had left him exhausted and out of breath.

"Hey."  His voice rasped.  "What are you doing here?"

"Didn’t Donna tell you I was coming over?"  Leo asked, still standing in the doorway.

"Yeah," Josh closed his eyes trying to remember the conversation.

~~  " _Donna!"  Josh whined.  "You need to rest, too."_

_"Fine.  I’ll go.  Just remember that Leo is coming to see you at 7."_

_"Why?"_

_Donna sighed and looked at Josh.  "He wants to talk about your return to work."_

_Josh’s eyes widened, a hint of alarm in his voice.  "He does?"_

_"Yeah.  What, did you think you were on permanent vacation here?"_

_"Nno.."  He stuttered, still stunned.  "I hadn’t really thought about it."   ~~_

"So are you going to let me in?"

"Huh?  Oh, sorry."  Josh broke out of his reverie, moved away from the door and motioned Leo into the apartment.

Leo sauntered to the couch and dropped down heavily, rubbing a hand over his face.  "How are you feeling, Josh?"

Josh moved to settle into the chair across from Leo.  "Relieved to be out of that prison."

Leo chuckled and shook his head.  "You never were one for inactivity."  His comment elicited a smile from his deputy’s drawn features.  "Any way, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about."  Josh’s smile disappeared, not without Leo taking notice.  "You’re going to work with Sam on the Peterson thing and on 482.  Toby can bring you up to speed on his meeting with Gillette and the highway bill.  I think Sam has the community enrichment bill wrapped up, but you need to check with him."

Josh fidgeted in his chair, distractedly fingering the hem of his t-shirt.  As Leo spoke, the knot in his stomach grew along with the rising panic in his chest.  He fought to quell the unexplained fear that the thought of returning to work created in him.  Josh realized his boss had stopped speaking and looked up to find piercing blue eyes scrutinizing him.  "I thought I had resigned."  His voice sounded weak to his own ears.

"In your own words, you ‘serve at the pleasure of the President’ and neither he, nor I accepted your resignation."

Josh dropped his gaze, swallowing the lump that had mysteriously formed in his throat.

"Sam will come by tomorrow to begin bringing you up to speed.  You’ll need to check with Donna about when Toby will be by.  Your doctor has cleared you for half days, starting Thursday.  We’ll play it by ear, but I’d like you to start taking meetings again by the end of next week."  Leo kept a steady gaze on his young deputy, taking note of his quickening breath and escalating restlessness.

Josh became increasingly uncomfortable under Leo’s scrutiny.  He pushed himself up, as quickly as his exhausted body would allow, and began pacing the living room.  "Yeah, okay."  He tried to think how to distract his boss, get him off the topic of returning to work, but what he considered to be a sharp political mind was failing him.  He had lost his ability to misdirect, and he clenched his teeth in frustration.  Josh was aware of Leo’s eyes following him, evaluating him, and it made him want to jump out of his skin.

His pacing led him to the window and he sagged against the wall, looking outside with unseeing eyes.  "Look Leo, I’m really beat and Donna will have my head if I don’t get some sleep."  He paused, trying to suppress the urge, but coughed a few times anyway.  When he’d regained his breath, he spoke again.  "If you don’t mind seeing yourself out..."  Josh waved vaguely toward the door.  He risked a brief, furtive glance at the older man before stumbling down the hall to the safety of his bedroom.

Only after Josh closed the bedroom door behind him did Leo move.  For a brief moment he considered following the younger man, pressing him to reveal what he was thinking and why he was so gun shy about work.  He quickly brushed the foolish thought aside and strode across the room to the front door.  He knew his deputy.  Recent events had rocked Josh to his very core and if they had any hope of keeping the White House, Josh needed to be rebuilt, and quickly.

Leo withdrew a cell phone from his pocket as he descended the stairs from Josh’s building. "Margaret, I want Senior Staff in my office in half an hour.  No, don’t call Josh, but I want Donna there.  Thanks."

After closing the bedroom door behind him, Josh flopped across his bed.  He listened intently for the muffled sound of the front door closing and latching.  When he heard the telltale click, he let out the breath he’d been holding; and immediately wished he hadn’t held it.  Coughing wracked his thin body.  He grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly to his chest, curling into a ball.  The coughing intensified as did the pain in his chest.

It took several minutes for the coughing to subside and several more for him to regain his breath.  Josh remained curled in the fetal position, eyes closed; listening to his own ragged breathing.

"Damn it." He rasped.  "I am NOT going to cry."

His entire body ached with tension.

"DAMN IT!"  He yelled at the empty room, straightening out and rolling onto his back.  "I’m not a frightened little kid.  Why the hell am I scared to go back to work?"

Josh rolled off the bed and onto his feet.  He began slowly pacing the room, frustrated, but not wanting to drive himself into another attack.  He plucked his baseball from his dresser top and absently tested the weight of it in his hand. Tossing the ball back and forth between his hands, he resumed his pacing and began talking out loud.

"They should have let me resign.  That wasn’t fair.  They’re committing political suicide by keeping me around.  And why? Pity?  That must be it."

Josh passed by the end of the bed, stumbling slightly as his foot caught in the bed spread which had fallen to the floor.  He dropped the ball in his effort to maintain his balance and it rolled away from him.  He cursed under his breath as he scooped up the wayward ball and resumed his pacing and tossing.

"I’ll only drop the ball again.  I’m a liability.  The resident nutcase.  It’s only their pity that causes them to keep me around.  ‘Poor Josh, got shot.  It caused him to unspool.  Keeping him around is the least we can do.’  I wonder how C.J.’ll spin it.  Sam and Toby are clever, they’ll think of something."

Josh knew he was being irrational, but he didn’t care.  He paused at the foot of his bed, and then suddenly hurled the baseball at the wall.  "I WANT MY LIFE BACK!" He hoarsely screamed, his voice cracking on the last word.  He watched the ball hit the wall, the impact leaving a fist- sized dent in the plaster, before dropping to the floor and rolling under the bed.

His knees gave out and he sank onto the bed, dropping his head into his hands.  "I want my life back."  His voice was a whisper; he allowed the tears to silently fall.

THE WHITE HOUSE- OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF STAFF, LEO MCGARRY

MONDAY 8 PM

          

"Josh doesn’t want to return to work."

"What?"  The disbelief in C.J.’s voice spoke for everyone gathered in Leo’s office.

"Did he come right out and say ‘I don’t want to come back’?"  Sam sank into a chair, feeling as if he’d been punched.

"Not those words, exactly, no."  Leo moved to lean against his desk and studied the four staffers gathered before him.

"He’s tired, Leo.  He just got out of the hospital."  Toby waved his pen as he spoke.  "He’s got walking pneumonia and asthma.  His psyche was just paraded through the media and his sanity questioned.  I certainly don’t blame him for wanting some time to just rest at home."  At the end of his rant Toby glanced at Donna.

The young woman stood by the closed door, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her thin chest, as if to protect herself.  Her body language revealed the awkwardness of the situation:  an assistant included in a senior staff meeting.  Her eyes wandered about the room, observing each person. Her face was firmly set, and clearly not in support of what Toby was saying.

"It’s been a rough few weeks.  Josh has been the center of media attention for several weeks.  It’s been five days since Lillienfield apologized and crawled back under his rock.  Josh deserves some time to himself."  C.J. crossed her long legs and shifted on the couch.  "I’m with Toby on this."

Leo shook his head and heaved a sigh in disagreement.  "Look at what he’s been through these last few weeks.  Think about what Toby just said. I’ve known Josh Lyman for a long time.  He’s never shied away from anything in his life."

"This is his life."  The others looked at Donna in surprise when she interrupted Leo.  "I’m just saying, politics, the White House, this administration; it’s who Josh is."  She shook her head in sadness.  "Leo’s right.  Josh doesn’t want to come back to work and Lillienfield has succeeded in destroying him."

"We need Josh Lyman if we have any hope of reelection.  We need him heart and soul, not a timid shadow of who he used to be. Something has to be done."  Leo held the gaze of each of his staff and drew encouragement from the looks of resolve, mixed with worry, on each of their faces.  Lillienfield was the least of their worries right now.  They had a new, more difficult mission; they had to save Josh Lyman from himself.

GEORGETOWN- JOSH LYMAN’S APARTMENT

TUESDAY, MID-MORNING

Sam Seaborn knocked one more time before fishing his key ring from his pocket.  He fumbled awkwardly through the keys on the ring with his left hand, dropping them twice before finding the right key and letting himself in.  He quickly pulled the key out of the lock and picked up his briefcase.  Walking into the dim apartment, he kicked the door shut behind him and called out to his best friend.

An eerie silence greeted him.  "Josh?"  He called again as he set his briefcase on the floor.  The lights were off in the apartment and the curtains drawn across the windows partially blocking the bright late spring sunshine.

Sam looked at his watch to confirm it was indeed 10:00 am, not trusting any of the clocks in the apartment.  He knew that Josh was expecting him.  Leo had confirmed that at the impromptu late night staff meeting.  He also knew that Donna had spoken on the phone with Josh earlier that morning.  Sam wandered down the hall to the closed bedroom door and knocked tentatively.

"Josh?  Man, I wish I could sleep in until 10 and blow off MY meetings."  Sam tried to keep his voice light as he hesitantly pushed open the door.

If he were truly honest with himself, he’d admit that he was absolutely terrified of what he might find behind that closed door.  He was worried about Josh.   Leo’s own concern and comments had done nothing to alleviate their fears that despite the physical healing, Josh was not doing well.

The bedroom was dark and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.  Josh was stretched out on his stomach, sound asleep, his breathing audible and just a little faster than normal.  Sam was loathe to wake him, knowing just how precious untroubled sleep was for Josh.  He stood in the door way watching his friend, feeling like a bit of a voyeur, yet relieved.

It was only when Josh began to stir several minutes later that Sam moved from the door way to sit on the edge of the bed.  "Hi."  He spoke softly.

Josh groggily opened his eyes to peer at Sam briefly before closing his eyes and rolling onto his back with a groan.  "You’re here."  His voice was gravelly with sleep and too much coughing.

"Yeah.  It’s 10."  Sam fiddled with his sling, suddenly feeling nervous.  "How are you doing?  Did you sleep last night?"

"I think it was still night when I fell a sleep, _mom_."  He growled in response.

That brief glimpse of the ‘old Josh’ was enough to assuage much of Sam’s fear and uneasiness.  "Well, as directed by Leo, I am here to bring you up to speed on Peterson and 482."

Josh groaned and pulled the pillow over his head.

"Come on, Josh.  You don’t even need to get dressed.  You can work in your pajamas."

The only response was a muffled "Go away."

Getting nowhere coddling Josh, Sam switched tactics.  He flicked on the bed side lamp, pushing the darkness to the corners of the room.  "You’ve got to get up.  You’re not my only appointment today, you know."  His gaze shifted around the room as he spoke, taking in the quintessential Josh reflected in the décor and clutter.  He froze when he eyes fell on the rather noticeable dent in the wall.  He felt his blood run cold.  "Josh?"  He was unable to keep the fearful tremor out of his voice.

"Hmm?"  Josh pulled off the pillow and partially opened one eye to look at him.

"What... what happened to..." he gestured toward the damage, unable to speak around the lump in his throat.  His heart pounded in fearful anticipation of the answer.

Josh didn’t need to look to know the cause of Sam’s agitation.  He rubbed his hands over his face. He would never be able to move beyond his past with his friends.   "Baseball."  He dropped his hands to his sides.  "I swear."

Sam could only nod.  Relief flooded through him until he turned and saw the anger, disappointment and defeat reflected in Josh’s eyes.  His heart sunk, and not knowing how to deal with Josh’s feelings, or even his own, he turned their focus to safer topics.

"So..."  The nervous tremor was still evident in his voice.  "About Peterson..."

The emotion in Josh’s eyes went darker; angrier?  Sam wasn’t sure and it unnerved him.

"Yeah.  Give me a minute, will ya?  I’ll be right out."

Sam held his friend’s gaze for a moment, still trying to sort out what was going on , when the memory of the previous night’s staff meeting came back to him.  "Okay, I’ll, ah, just be out there."  Sam waved towards the living room as he stood to leave the room, pulling the door partially shut behind him.

Sam was standing in front of the bookcase, lost in thought, when Josh stumbled out of the bedroom.  "I forgot you had this picture."  Sam commented as he picked up the framed photo from a shelf and turned toward his friend.

Josh flopped down on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table.  He cocked his head to the side in an unvoiced question.

Sam turned the photo toward Josh.  "It’s the night of the election.  I think Donna took it.  What a night!"  He smiled at the memory as he looked again at the picture.

"Do you ever regret this?"

"What?"  Sam looked up in surprise.  He found Josh had slumped lower on the couch, head tipped back and eyes closed.

"You were about to be made partner.  You’d be making a lot more than you are now.  You were going to get married."  Josh paused, swallowing painfully.  "Don’t you ever regret leaving all that?  Don’t you ever wish I’d never come to get you?  Don’t you ever wish you’d said no?"

"Josh..."  Sam looked down at the photo in his hand.  Staring back at him, grinning like Cheshire cats, were he and Josh; arms around each other’s necks and fingers held up in the "V" for victory sign.

He dropped wearily to the couch next to his friend, still looking at the photo.  "What’s really going on?"  He turned his head and studied Josh, taking in the pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.

Josh didn’t respond immediately.  He coughed a few times before speaking.  "Peterson."  He waved his hand weakly before him, as if brushing away the previous conversation.  "I don’t want to make you late for your next meeting.  Talk to me about Peterson."


	16. Residual Scarring 16

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

GEORGETOWN- JOSH LYMAN’S APARTMENT

LATE TUESDAY AFTERNOON

Rain streamed down the glass pane, the stormy spring weather perfectly reflecting Josh’s mood.  He sat on his couch, glaring at the files Sam had left on the coffee table, offended by their very presence.  He rubbed his aching chest before leaning over and sweeping everything off the table.  Papers and folders scattered over the floor.  Josh sagged back against the couch, breathing hard.

As his breathing and heart rate began to settle, he pushed himself up and stumbled to the kitchen, feeling 100 years old.  Opening the refrigerator, he scanned the contents noting the healthy array of fresh groceries purchased the day before by Donna.  He reached past the orange juice and milk to retrieve a beer bottle from the back. Leaving the cap on the counter, he returned to the living room and flopped on the couch.

He took a swig of beer, grimacing when the ice-cold liquid hit his raw throat.  He struggled to quickly swallow before giving into the urge to cough.

"Shit."  He wheezed between coughs.  His chest tightened as he continued coughing.  When the coughing subsided, he doggedly took another deep swig from the bottle.

GEORGETOWN- JOSH LYMAN’S APARTMENT

LATER THAT EVENING

Toby Zeigler knocked on Josh’s apartment door a fourth time and was about to reach for his cell phone when he heard the lock turn.  The door swung open to reveal Josh’s back as he returned to the couch.  Toby, surprised by the unconventional and rude greeting, stood still in the doorway.

"If you’re not coming in, at least shut the door."  Josh grumbled as he dropped onto the couch.

Toby moved slowly into the apartment, closing the door behind him, and stopping in shock at the scene before him.  Papers and file folders littered the floor.  Three empty beer bottles were lined up in the center of the coffee table.  A fourth, half empty, was clutched in Josh’s shaking hand.

Toby quickly assessed the situation and leveled a steady gaze at the drunken, younger man.  "What are you doing?"  His low tone and volume were characteristic of his anger.

Josh shrugged, idly picking at the label on the sweating bottle in his hand.  "I was thirsty."

Toby clenched his jaw, biting off an angry retort.  Brown eyes lifted briefly to meet his own.  The maelstrom of intense emotion reflected there surprised him, yet the only indication he gave of his own emotion was a rising of his eyebrows.

Josh quickly dropped his gaze back to the bottle.

Toby briefly glanced at the files scattered across the floor.  "How’d it go with Sam?"

"Just great.  He’s got a handle on Peterson."

"And 482?"

"Sam’s got it all wrapped up."  Josh’s voice was laced with bitterness.

Toby looked around the room and heaved a sigh.  "What’s going on, Josh?"  He turned his gaze back to Josh, his voice soft.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."  Josh replied in a strained voice as he continued to pick at the bottle label with his thumbnail.

Toby carefully set his briefcase on the coffee table.  "Okay.  Let’s talk about Gillette and the highway bill."

Josh scowled at the briefcase and then turned to glare at Toby.

Ignoring the glare, Toby pulled a file from his case.  "Gillette is still riding the fence.  It’s time to take the persuasion up a step."  He settled back into the chair and began leafing through the files on his lap.  "Meet with him Friday morning.  All the information you need should be here."  He closed the folder and as he held it out toward his colleague he looked up and froze.

Josh sat rigidly on the couch; his face pale and hands shaking.  His brown eyes were dark with fear.  Toby slowly put the folder on the table between them.  Josh followed the movement with his eyes.

"Josh, what’s going on?"  Toby’s question was met with silence.  "Josh?"

"Huh?" Josh startled, as if breaking from a trance.  "Nothing.  Everything I need is there?"  He kept his eyes locked on the folder, but made no move to reach for it.

"Josh."  Toby spoke softly.

Josh’s head snapped up, the fear in his eyes abruptly transmuted to anger.  "God, Toby!  Can’t everyone leave me the hell alone?"

"Because we care about you and right now you don’t; because you walk around with all this guilt when you have no control over fate.  You’re not superman, Josh.  You think you have to handle everything without flinching. You don’t get the fact that you are hurting your friends."

"Get out."  Josh whispered, his voice dripping with venom.

"You’re drunk and depressed.  We missed it in December, we let you down.  Never again.  I’m not going to let you go through this alone."

"Get out."  Josh hissed as he rose shakily to his feet.  He would have fallen on his face if not for Toby’s quick reactions.

Toby pulled the bottle from Josh’s lax grip and set it on the table.  He lowered him to the couch.  "If you’re going to puke, please make sure you get to the bathroom.  I don’t relish cleaning that up."

Josh’s only response was to moan.

"Come on."  Toby sighed, grabbed Josh by the arm and hauled him to his feet.  Dragging him to the bathroom, he deposited Josh on the floor just in time for him to throw up into the toilet.  "Honestly.  For a Fulbright scholar, you can be a real idiot sometimes."  Toby began cleaning Josh up as he continued speaking.  "Are you trying to put yourself back in the hospital?  I’m sure that at least on of your medications says not to mix with alcohol."

"I’m sorry."  Josh mumbled as Toby dumped him on his bed and pulled the covers up over him.  "I’m sorry."

"Yeah, I know.  Sleep it off.  We’ll talk later."  Toby patted Josh’s head in a surprisingly fatherly manner before turning off the light and leaving the room.  He retrieved his cell phone from his coat and dialed his office.

"Ginger, cancel the rest of my day please.  No, I’m at Josh’s. I’m going to be here a while.  Can you transfer me to Donna?  No- Wait...  Transfer me to Leo instead.  Thanks."  Toby began picking up the files while he waited for his call to be transferred to the Chief of Staff.

*********************************************

GEORGETOWN- JOSH’S APARTMENT

EARLY HOURS OF WEDNESDAY MORNING.

Toby looked up as Josh stumbled out of the bedroom to the kitchen.  He put down the file he’d been reading and waited.  He could hear Josh banging around in the kitchen; there was a loud clang and some cursing.  A few minutes later Josh immerged and seeing Toby on the couch, startled.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting to finish our conversation.  Are you sober yet?"

"No?"

"Good try.  Now sit down."

Josh dropped into the chair, acting like a petulant school boy about to receive a dressing down by his father.

"What’s going on?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Cut the bull shit, Josh.  I’m not Donna or Leo or Stanly Keyworth.  I’m the one who kept you from smashing your head open on the pavement at Rosslyn and held my hands over your gushing chest wound until the paramedics arrived."

Both men paled at the reminder of what had happened, but Toby held Josh’s gaze.

Josh swallowed and dropped his gaze.  When he spoke, his voice was soft and pleading.

"What if I have another attack?  What if I loose it in front a congressman?"

"What if you do?  God, Josh, you’ve got walking pneumonia and asthma.  Your psyche was just paraded through the media and your sanity questioned.  No body expects you to be back 100%."

"Toby, I..."

"Everything that you’ve worked for, everything you’ve achieved; you’re letting it slip away from you.  You’re letting those ignorant, hate-filled kids win.  You’re letting a lesser politician get the better of you.  I’ll tell you one thing, Josh; as much as we care about you, we can’t drag you along for ever.  There comes a point where you become a liability.  Don’t put us in that position.  Pull yourself together or resign."

Josh stared at Toby for a minute before turning away.  "I already feel like a liability."

Toby softened.  "You’re not, Josh.  You’re really not."

Josh turned back to his friend and colleague and searched his face.  He sighed, knowing that Toby always spoke his heart and had never been anything less than honest with him.

"I wish I could believe that."

He arduously pushed himself up from the chair and shuffled across the room to the window.  Pressing his forehead against the cold glass, he closed his eyes.  Images with which he was all too familiar played through his mind’s eye, and he realized for the first time that through everything there were five constants;  Leo, Sam, Donna, C.J., Toby.  Josh heaved a sigh, which brought on painful coughing.

When the coughing passed Josh turned around to lean back against the window, arms crossed protectively over his aching chest.  Facing his friend, he wasn’t surprised to met intense, concern-filled brown eyes evaluating him.  He tried to give Toby a small smile; it was not even a shadow of the infamous Lyman smirk.

"I already tried, you know."

Toby cocked his head to the side, a quizzical look crossing his features.

Josh’s voice dropped and Toby had to strain to hear.  "To resign.  Gave Leo a letter and everything."  Josh looked away again, suddenly finding the wood grain of the bookcase fascinating and worth of study.  He cleared his throat.  "They wouldn’t accept it."

Toby scrubbed his hands over his forehead and down over his eyes, silently thanking God for Leo McGarry and Jed Bartlet’s stubbornness.  "Guess that leaves you with only one option."

Josh shook his head and turned his gaze back to Toby.  The gruff speech writer was at once shocked and saddened by the raw emotion reflected in those deep brown eyes.  In a voice muted by physical and emotional pain, Josh spoke what Toby had feared to be true:  "I don’t think I can."


	17. Residual Scarring 17

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

GEORGETOWN:  JOSH LYMAN’S APARTMENT

EARLY WEDNESDAY MORNING

Josh looked up when Toby placed a steaming cup on the coffee table in front of him.  A smirk tugged at his lips.  "I should hire you as my assistant."

Toby scowled at Josh, who motioned toward the mug.  He shook his head at the long standing joke between Josh and Donna.

As the speech writer settled onto the couch with his own mug of coffee, Josh wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic vessel and inhaled the comforting aroma.  He felt Toby’s gaze on him and shifted nervously.  He cleared his throat and kept his own gaze on the coffee.

"Why’d you do it?"  His voice was soft and tentative.

"What?"  Toby asked, sipping his coffee.

Josh cleared his throat again.  "The campaign.  Leo brought you on before any of us came.  Why’d you do it?"  Josh finally looked up, catching and holding Toby’s gaze.

Toby slowly drank from his mug and studied Josh before answering.  "Why did you leave Hoynes and go to New Hampshire?"

The younger man dropped his gaze again to his mug.  His hands were shaking slightly, causing ripples in the brown liquid.  "Guilt and curiosity?"  He looked up sheepishly.

Toby gave a dry chuckle.  "Yeah.  People have phenomenal capacity, Josh. We both saw the same thing in Josiah Bartlet."  Toby cleared his throat.  "At the risk of over-inflating your already bloated ego..."

Josh made a noise in his throat, his breath catching in his chest.

"You have a world class political mind. You’ve just lost your vision.  You’ve lost sight of why you are even in politics."

Toby stood and took his now empty mug to the kitchen.  Josh set his still full one back on the table in front of him.  The gruff speechwriter returned from the kitchen and began making preparations to leave.

"If the Bartlet Administration is to last four more years, we need the political prowess of Josh Lyman.  What you saw that night in Nashua is still there, you’ll just have to look a little harder."

  
Toby adjusted his over coat and picked up his briefcase.  "Find your passion, Josh, and come back to us."  He stopped at the door with his hand on the knob and turned back to the room.  Josh sat unmoving, staring at his feet.

"Politics is who you are.  It’s in your blood.  You’re good at what you do."  He paused and opened the door.  "And if you breathe a word about this to anyone, I’ll categorically deny everything."

Josh’s shoulders rose slightly, than dropped.

"You have Seth Gillette at 2 o’clock on Friday."  Toby took a last look at the younger man then let himself out.

Josh sat in silence, staring at nothing.  After a moment he gave his head a small shake, as if to clear away cobwebs.  He looked around the room, taking in his surroundings for the first time since Toby’s arrival hours earlier.

The files from Sam were stacked neatly on the coffee table.  Josh could only assume each page had been returned to its proper place.  Toby had cleaned up the mess he’d made.  Even the empty beer bottles were gone.  The symbolism was not lost on the shattered politician.

Josh drew a long breath and released it in a short puff.  He placed a hand on his chest as coughing followed his sigh.  The cough was persistent, his body still trying to fight the infection that had been raging through him.  He felt marginally better than he had in days and wondered if perhaps he had turned a corner.

"Maybe I can do this."  He reached out a still shaky hand to pick up the folder on top of the stack.  As he perused the information Toby had compiled on the highway bill and the recalcitrant Senator Gillette, Josh fought the panic rising in his chest and tried to remember why he’d gone into politics.

WEST WING- OFFICE OF THE DEPUTY CHIEF OF STAFF

A WEEK LATER

Josh stood rigidly behind his desk, surveying the clutter.  His fingertips barely brushed the surface of the desk.  He suddenly reached out a faintly shaking hand to push aside some files and papers.  His brow creased in a frown that deepened as he pushed aside more papers and folders.  Josh picked up a stack of overstuffed file folders, looking under them with a scowl.  He dropped the stack with a loud thud.

"DONNA!"  The bellow was cut short by coughing.  Josh dropped into his chair, pressing one hand against his chest and covering his mouth with the other.

"Yet another reason you shouldn’t be yelling."

Fighting to subdue the coughs and regain his breath, Josh glowered at his blond assistant who was standing on the other side of his desk.  He snatched the water bottle from her out-stretched hand and took several gulps.

"Where’s my file on the tobacco suit?"  He asked with a gravely voice.

"The one Leo told you to put away?"

"Yeah.  Where is it?"

"I put it away."

"Donna..."  Josh’s tone was half whine, half warning.

"Leo said..."

"I know what Leo said."  Josh cut her off, pulled a tired hand over his eyes then fixed his gaze on his assistant.  "Just get me the file."

"Everyone has told you this isn’t the time.  Leo said to put it away."

"Jimminy Cricket, the file."

Donna crossed her arms over her thin chest, regarding her boss with a frown.  "You have a meeting with Bruno and his people."  With that she turned on her heel and left the room.

Josh sank deeper into his chair and ran a hand through his already unruly hair.  He didn’t know if he had it with him to be civil in a meeting with Bruno Gianelli.  He’d been less than thrilled when he found out that Leo was bringing Gianelli on for the re-election.  Josh had in fact made his opinion known, loudly.  He couldn’t help but be offended by the political operative’s mere presence near his campaign.  He took it as a personal affront; a confirmation that he couldn’t handle his job as chief political strategist for the Bartlet re-election campaign.

The events of the past few weeks, culminating with the hiring of Bruno, Connie, and Doug, created in Josh an intense compulsion to prove himself to everyone around him.  After Toby’s conversation about phenomenal capacity and stroking egos, Josh had pushed down his fear and made a decision.  Politics was his heart beat.  It was what brought him delight and satisfaction, and most days he felt he was able to get a glimpse of what had attracted him to this world.

"You’re going to be late."  Donna’s voice broke through his thoughts and his head jerked up.  The young woman was once again standing on the other side of his cluttered desk, this time holding a file folder.

Josh leaped to his feet and grabbed his pen along with a few files off the top of his desk and a legal pad.  "Is that the tobacco file?"  He reached for the papers as he came around the end of his desk.

"Leo said to put it away."

"Don’t you have some memos to type or something?"  Josh snapped as he grabbed the file and headed for his meeting.

"I’m just saying..."

"I’m late."  Josh walked briskly away from her; juggling the things he’d brought with him while trying to skim the contents of the file.

"JOSH!"

Donna’s call came too late as the hasty politician collided with a mail cart, sending him, the cart, and the young intern plummeting to the floor with a crash and several loud expletives.

Donna hastened down the hall to aid her boss.  Those around snickered at the sight of the Deputy Chief of Staff sprawled on the floor amidst papers, envelopes, and packages.

"DAMN IT!"

The smirks were quickly concealed as staffers suddenly became engrossed in their work.  Josh swore again as he tried to simultaneously extricate himself from the cart and apologetic red-faced intern and collect his scattered files.

"Are you okay?"  Donna gathered the strewn papers with eerie speed and accuracy then started to pull Josh to his feet.

"I’m fine."  He growled as he snatched his papers from her hands and struggled to his feet with a grimace.  He straightened his shoulders.  "I’m fine."  He repeated.  He shook his head for a minute.  "The Roosevelt Room?"

Donna looked at him with a mixture of amusement, concern, and puzzlement.  "Josh?"

"My meeting."  Josh replied somewhat distractedly. He shook his head again and coughed as he leafed through the files, checking that all pages had been returned to the appropriate folders.  "It’s in the Roosevelt Room?"  He looked up at Donna for confirmation, his face a mask.

"Yeah."  Donna frowned, trying to figure out what was going on in the mind of Joshua Lyman.

As if nothing had happened, Josh turned and strode down the hall, leaving a very perplexed assistant behind.

"You could help you know."

Donna looked down at her feet to see the still red-faced intern on her knees trying to gather the contents of her mail cart.  "Sorry."  Donna stooped, righted the cart and began replacing items.

"It’s alright.  This is the second time this has happened.  I’m new and I’m just not use to the pace..."

Donna tuned out the young women as she once again tried to interpret the actions of her boss.  Josh had returned to a full schedule almost immediately and for the most part things were going well.  They were still celebrating the victory of the passage of the highway bill.  Praise had been lavished upon Josh for bringing the deciding vote of Senator Gillette.  The total number of people that he’d pissed off was at a minimum and no one was asking for his head on a platter.  Lillienfield had faded into the woodwork and everyone had pretty much forgotten about the PTSD disclosure.  For all intents and purposes life was back to normal and Josh seemed to have pulled things together in typical Lyman fashion and was moving on.

It took someone who was really close, someone who really knew Josh Lyman, to know that he was barely holding it together.  And if his friends and colleagues had not been so involved with re-election and the daily running of the government, they would have realized that they were no where near out of the woods when it came to Josh’s recent psychological crisis.    


	18. Residual Scarring 18

**Residual Scarring**

**by:** natlski

**Character(s):** Josh  
**Category(s):** Angst, General  
**Rating:** G  


* * *

WHITE HOUSE- OFFICE OF THE DEPUTY CHIEF OF STAFF

THURSDAY MORNING

Slowly replacing the receiver to the cradle, Josh sat back.  He carefully placed the paper into its folder and sat staring at the closed file.  The feeling of glee he normally got from playing the political game didn’t materialize.  His heart beat the staccato rhythm of anxiety and he drew a deep breath in attempt to quell the panic rising in his chest.

As Josh reached for the file a knock and the opening door startled him.  He knocked over the water bottle on his desk and swore.

"Jesus, Donna!  Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" Josh groused as he hastily shoved the file under a stack of folders.

"I knocked."  Donna spoke warily, eyeing her boss with concern.  "Do you have a minute for C.J.?"  She looked down at her notepad.

"C.J.?"  Josh’s breath caught in his throat, causing the name to come out a squeak.

Donna looked up to see his stricken look. "What did you do?"

"What?"  He held her gaze briefly before looking away and shuffling the folders on his desk.  "Nothing.  Do you know what she wants?"

"Wait," Donna looked up at the ceiling. "Darn, my esp isn’t working today."

"Donna..."

"Must be poor atmospheric conditions.  Maybe the radiation from the missile silos under the White House..."

"Donna..."

She handed him a file.  "You have Senior Staff in 10 minutes. I’ll send C.J. in."

"Yeah."  Josh breathed out the word.  The panic that had been dispelled by the banter returned in full force and he squinted against the blossoming head ache.  He reminded himself that it was too soon.  He shuffled papers, trying to look busy.

C.J. quietly closed the door behind her and settled into a visitor’s chair.  She watched Josh aimlessly moving papers in the pretence of doing work. "Hey, Wheezy."

"I really am over that, you know."

 "How are you doing?"

Josh sighed and stilled his hands.  "So we’re back to this are we?"

"I talked to Leo."

"It got away from you.  You screwed up. I screw up on a regular basis and you don’t see me..."  Josh trailed off as C.J. leveled him with a steely gaze.

"I don’t see you what?"

He dropped his gaze.  "I just don’t think..."  Josh pulled papers together and looked at his watch.  He pushed back from his desk and stood.  "We have Senior Staff."  He paused at the door when C.J. didn’t move.

"C.J."  Josh’s voice was plaintive.

She looked up and met his brown eyes, trying to read the emotions playing through them.  C.J.  looked down at her slender hands clasped tightly on top of the notebook in her lap.  She briefly wondered when they had turned into these people.  "Yeah."

She pushed herself up and the two walked to their meeting in a troubled silence.

WHITE HOUSE WEST WING- OFFICE OF DEPUTY CHIEF OF STAFF

SOMETIME LATER

_"Pennsylvania.  Ohio.  Michigan.  Three swing states you could have brought over with that.  That’s an election."_

Bruno’s words echoed in Josh’s head as he sat with a sinking heart.  He groaned as the ramifications of his actions came to full light in his mind.  Panic and dread gripped him as his imagination played through the hypotheticals of the up-coming months.

Josh scrubbed his hands over his face before dropping them lifelessly into his lap and sagging back in his chair.  It amazed him how quickly the ground he’d gained slipped away from him.

_"That’s an election."_

Josh let out a long breath, then slowly sat up.  He gingerly picked up his pen and began reading one of the myriad reports on his desk.

MANCHESTER, NEW HAMPSHIRE

ROUGHLY TWO WEEKS LATER

The eve of The Announcement had arrived.  They had spent hours rehashing the speech at the Bartlet Farm.  Sam, Toby and Doug had long since stopped arguing and were simply exchanging glares.  The President had declared the speech locked, despite the balking of the three writers.  C.J. was brooding and Josh kept bring up the FDA, like a dog worrying a bone.  Around midnight Leo took pity on the workers at the bar and grill and sent the campaign staff back to the hotel with strict orders to get some sleep.

It had actually been weeks since Josh had been able to sleep; his nights were spent in restless tossing and turning as the events of recent months played across the silver screen of his mind.  By morning he usually passed out from exhaustion on the couch in his apartment, after hours of pacing.

The quaint New England hotel room left no space for pacing and 1:30 A.M. found Josh Lyman slumped in the wing-back chair.  The bed sheets were rumbled, evidence of his futile attempt to sleep.

His arms lay limp against his body and his posture was not unlike that of a worn teddy bear with too little stuffing.  He had become accustomed to the ache in his muscles; his arm, back, entire side, constantly stiff and sore.  Josh tried to blame his sleeplessness on his body, but knew it was more the fault of his mind.

Josh closed his eyes and heaved a sigh.  He added the slight tightness of his chest to the list of physical ailments and discomfort that was a continuous piece of his life.  As had taken place so many nights before, the questions and debate began in his mind; and, as before, the voices were not all his.

_"Why aren’t you dead?" Stanley asked in his Georgetown office._

_"How did that bullet not kill you?"  Leo’s voice carried through the phone._

_"I don’t think PTSD is something they let you have when you work for the President."  The desperation in his voice was painful to him._

"I can fix this, why won’t they let me?"  He asked the empty room.  "Just one phone call and it’s taken care of; just one phone call."

It was in this disheveled physical and mental state that Donna found him hours later.

"Why aren’t you dressed?  You’ve got to shower and shave."  She began to bustle around the room, pulling clothes from his drawers.

Josh grumbled at her, "Yeah, no question about it, most voters are pro-choice, but the ones that aren't are going to devote their lives and their money to beating you.’Guns don't kill people; Bartlet does.' It's going to look like we screwed up the timing so the press is going to write about process and not about issues, and getting political reporters to write about issues in the first place is like getting kids to eat their vegetables."

"You’ve got to get in the shower."  Donna instructed, trying to get his attention.

 "Don’t you want to know how it’s like getting kids to eat their vegetables?  It helps if there’s nothing else on their plate."  Josh stiffly stood and moved toward the bathroom.

"You couldn’t sleep?"

"I know I could stop this thing! One phone call! The President's not even involved! 'Could you do us a favor, could you hold off two weeks? We love your drug but we don't want it folded into our news cycle!'" Josh’s voice rose, pleading.  His shoulders were hunched with tension and he held his hands out in front of him. "I could have picked up the phone, I could have picked...." He turned from her and slammed his open hand against the bathroom door frame and yelled, "God!"

Josh stopped; his chest heaving, the fight and energy draining from him.  Donna’s face fell, her earlier frustration replaced by grave concern.

"What’s this about?"  She asked, already knowing and fearing the answer.

If it was at all possible, Josh deflated even more.  His shoulders dropped and his breath escaped in a shaky sigh.  His gaze focused some where around his assistant’s feet, unable to take the concern in her eyes.  "I blew the tobacco thing. That could have helped us, and I was....This is going to be a very close election. I gotta take a shower." He turned and stumbled into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Josh stood in the shower, the hot water cascading over his aching body, relieving some of the tension from his muscles.  His voice echoed painfully in his ears.

            _"I blew the tobacco thing... I blew the tobacco thing...I blew it... I blew it..."_

"I should have resigned.  I should have gone through with it."  He murmured.  Hot water run over his face, pushing his eye’s closed.  "I let my self be talked out of my decision, against my better judgment.  I’m this campaign’s greatest liability.  The MS was making things hard enough without my help.  I screwed up."

He heaved a sigh and turned off the water.  Josh toweled off, his movements slow.  He felt strangely detached from everything.  He wrapped the towel around his slender hips and stood before the large mirror, evaluating his visage.  He shuddered at the image of his pale skin and haggard features.  His fingers carefully traced the scars that bisected his chest and he felt his breath hitch involuntarily.

Josh ran shaky fingers through his wild hair, smoothing down the wet locks.  He heaved another sigh and opened the bathroom door.   He gasped in shock as the cooler air of the bedroom hit his steam dampened skin.  The sound of a clearing throat caused his head to snap up, "Donna!"  Josh’s voice squeaked.  His hand clutched at the towel at his waist to ensure it stayed in place.

Donna Moss sat perched on the edge of the bed.  While Josh had been in the shower, she had tidied the room, putting away papers and files, and smoothing the sheets.  She now sat with hands clasped nervously in her lap.  She cleared her throat again and held out a neatly folded undershirt and pair of clean boxers.  Donna kept her eyes averted to the side.

 Josh wondered if it was from some misguided sense of modesty, after all, there was little she had not seen when she was helping during his recovery.  Perhaps she couldn’t bear to look at him, so shamed by his failure. "Thanks."  He spoke softly, finger tips brushing her hand as he took the clothes.  He studied her face for a moment, then returned to the bathroom.

When he emerged, she was still sitting on the bed.  Josh again ran his fingers through his hair before sinking down beside her.

"Donna..." His voice cracked.

"Josh, you’ve got to let this go.  You’ve got to get past this."

He drew a shaky breath then slowly let it go.  "This wasn’t some silly press slip-up that my friends will mock me for.  I’m not an amateur.   This was a huge political blunder."  He motioned aimlessly and she caught his right hand.

Holding his hand, palm up, Donna gently traced the now light scare that traversed his palm.  A shudder ran through him and she covered his hand with her own, entwining their fingers.

"Let it go Josh, stop doubting yourself.  No one is holding a grudge about tobacco.  No one but you.  You blew it.  It’s time to move on."

"It’s going to be a close election.  We’re going to have to fight hard and play smart." Josh’s voice was barely audible and he stared at their clasped hands in amazement.

"You’ve always loved a challenge."

Josh chuckled, and gave a small shake of his head.  When he spoke, his voice sounded strangled.  "I don’t know if..."

"Josh."  Donna’s voice was firm, cutting him off.  "Everyone has fought hard for you.  But we can’t keep doing this.  There is so much that we are trying to overcome.  The MS, Mrs. Landingham," She paused and squeezed his hand and her voice softened. "Rosslyn.  We can’t keep playing this game."  She stood and turned to face him.  Josh held onto her hand, and air of desperation hung around him.

"Know and remember this, Joshua Lyman." Donna squeezed his hand again, but he kept his gaze downcast.  "You are a valuable person.  You have many people who care deeply for you and have your back.  And it has nothing to do with your political prowess."

Donna pulled him to his feet and he was forced to meet her gaze.  The emotional pain in his brown eyes was startling, but Donna gave him a countering smile, communicating her confidence in him.

Josh managed a small smirk, one eyebrow arching, "My ‘political prowess’?"

"Get dressed.  You’re going to be late."  She gave his hand one last squeeze, then headed for the door.  

Josh suddenly felt bereft and balled his hand into a fist to keep from reaching out for her again.  Donna was already across the room and had the door open.  "I’ll tell Leo you’ll be down in 5 minutes.

The door clicked shut. Josh dressed, his movements mechanical as his brain processed everything that had just happened.

MANCHESTER, NH- BAR AND GRILL

LATE THAT EVENING

"It was a good event today."  C.J. leaned back in her chair next to Josh, their shoulders touching.    The others were gathered around the pool table watching Charlie hustle Toby one last time before they boarded Air Force One for their return to Washington.

"Yeah."  Josh continued picking at the label on his beer bottle.

"It’ll be different this time."  She felt her friend stiffen and she quickly shook her head.  "I mean we’re in office, but campaigning at the same time.  It’ll be different."

"Yeah."  His answer could barely be heard above the noise of the bar.

"Josh..."  C.J. glanced sideways at the brooding man.

He shook his head.  "Don’t."  Josh took a swig of his beer, grimacing as he swallowed.  "It occurs to me that I’ve been spending a lot of time and energy on the wrong things."

"You’ve been trying too hard to prove yourself."  C.J. spoke softly, bumping Josh’s leg with her knee.  "You don’t have to prove anything.  Josh.  We know you can do your job.  We know you’re good at your job, of which you typically remind us at frequent intervals."

A corner of Josh’s mouth twitched, almost forming a smile.  He looked across the room to where the assistants sat laughing.  C.J. followed his gaze.

Donna laughed at something Margaret said.  The young woman’s face lit up with the joy of friendship.  Her blonde hair cascaded around her slim shoulders.  Her beauty was not dimmed by the shadows of the bar.

C.J. shifted her gaze back to Josh, but his eyes remained focused on the young blonde.  "I realized something today."

"Josh..."  C.J.’s tone held a warning.

"God, C.J."  He turned his gaze back to the Press Secretary.  "I’ve made things hard enough already.  Do you really think I’m stupid enough to..."

"I think you are exactly that stupid."  She cut him off.

He turned to watch the assistants again.  "Thanks for that vote of confidence."  He was silent for a moment before picking up his previous train of thought.  "No matter how bad things get, no matter how badly I screw up..."

C.J. grinned.  "Yeah."   

"I made a decision."

C.J. rested a hand on his leg.  "You’re back?"

"I’m back."  Josh grasped C.J.’s hand.

Donna and Carol suddenly appeared in front of their bosses.  "Wheels up in an hour.  We’d better get going."

C.J. stood and pulled Josh to his feet.  "Let’s go, Mi Amore.  We’ve got a plane to catch."

The End


End file.
